Between Two Giants
by Clevingerrr
Summary: Two years after the Great War, Europe has divided itself once more, and Deryn and Alek are tasked with the unthinkable: suppressing a Darwinist rebellion in a Clanker-controlled nation. Their world of black-and-white turns grey as they fight against everything they hold dear. Isolated from each other and surrounded by former enemies, who can they trust?
1. In an Antique Land

**A/N: One quick thing to note - while Volger plays a key role in this prologue chapter, Alek and Deryn do not appear until chapter 2. If you want some world-establishing and mood-setting for the fanfic, read on. If not, feel free to skip on to chapter 2. **

* * *

><p>Chapter 1<p>

"In an Antique Land"

**Outside of Vienna, Austria**

**June 26th, 1914**

Since the rapid militarization of Western Europe, tensions had been brewing to an all-time high between the rival Darwinist and Clanker states entrenched within their continental boundaries. While Clanker mechanics churned out one war-machine after another, Darwinist biologists scrambled to modify their own gene-spliced creations to outfight and outpace their robotic counterparts. Each respective power knew that the powder keg of Europe could be lit at any time, and that even the slightest misstep could catapult the continent into a bloody war. Military spending became the top priority of Europe's greatest and smallest powers, and every successive year's defenses were bolder and more advanced than the next. Austria-Hungary was no exception to this contemporary fact of life.

Several miles from Hofburg Palace, a once-abandoned outpost was buzzing with activity. Outwardly, it appeared to be a windowless apartment complex, with its aging white paint chipped away in numerous spots. Ivy hung loosely from its rooftop, and no apparent entrance was visible on any side. On the inside, however, each of its three stories were packed with armed personnel from Austria-Hungary's armed forces. From the most distinguished generals to the lowest NCO's, it appeared as though every soldier worth his salt was present. Maps of Europe were sprawled across every room, with conflicting plans of attack and defense scribbled across every inch of land. Any hints of color and vibrancy in the rooms were secluded by the grim feeling shared by its inhabitants: war was coming, and there was no way to stop it.

In the officer's club of the third floor, four highly-ranked men in particular were discussing the matter privately. The stools along the bar table had been knocked over, and the counter had not been cleaned or used in years. In place of the finely-crafted wooden furniture were crudely crafted metallic lookalikes, all occupied by the officers within the club. The bright yellow wallpaper had faded from years of cigar smoke and riotous barfighting, and the light overhead flickered with a low hum. A portable radio mounted on the counter broadcasted the discussions below them in a scratchy, barely-audible volume.

Although Wildcount Volger technically lacked the clearance to take part in this meeting, his knowledge and vast experience on cavalry tactics made him a valuable asset to the Austrian High Command. Partially due to this, but mostly due to the insistence of an influential ally of his, he was serving as an advisor to the three other officers present. It certainly made him feel more important than the weekly fencing lessons with a potential heir-to-be did, although he was well aware of the true purpose behind them.

"…Serbia," the thickly-bearded Colonel Waechter muttered to his comrades. "If this disaster begins anywhere, it'll be because of those thugs in Serbia." He continued to rub his legs anxiously, keenly aware of the confused looks the other three were giving him. Looking up to meet their gazes, he declared, "Haven't you seen the way they're eyeing our southern borders? Like a pack of wolves waiting for the kill! They're planning something, I'm telling you…"

"Not that I question your logic, Waecther," the cigar-puffing General Bierman commented, "but Serbia is not known for its military might. They can barely keep the Russians from consuming their lands entirely!"

"Your point?" Waechter fired back, rubbing his arthritis-inflamed leg. "They don't have to be the strongest power to hurt us, just gutsy enough! Like how those Americans wiped Spain off of Cuba: their armies should have been no match for an armada like Spain's, but they took chances and kicked them off Cuba!"

Lt. Colonel Rothschild stepped in between their argument. "If I may?" he asked. When no response was made, he continued. "General Bierman's point is that any attack by Serbia would be suicide for them. I highly doubt they could last a few months in direct combat with Germany supporting us." Before Waecther could interject, he began again. "However, I know that desperate times can cause desperate actions in certain people. The Serbs are a smart people, but they are desperate enough to try something foolish. We might need to keep our eyes pointed at their border. Whatever our diplomacy with the Ottomans cannot do, our military strength can."

Waechter and Bierman conceded, and got back into their seats. While Waechter openly and eagerly awaited a threat to neutralize and honors to be received, Bierman had grown weary of the whole affair. His eyes had seen the catastrophic effects of war firsthand too many times, and had confided with Volger about his hopes that he would not live to see another conflict on such a scale as the Crimean War.

To Volger, Rothschild was the only reliable participant in the conversation other than himself. While Waechter did occasionally show signs of tactical brilliance and cunning, this was frequently overshadowed by his insubordinate and obnoxious attitude. Bierman, on the other hand, was too hesitant to take action. He greatly respected his long and successful career in the Austro-Hungarian Armed Forces, but recognized the slowness brought on by his age. The last time the two had talked in private, he had admitted that he was planning to retire once this potential war blew over like the others did.

"Rothschild, are you forgetting someone?" he jested, smoothing out his large gray moustache.

Embarrassed, Rothschild turned his attention towards him. "Of-of course not, Volger," he said, "how could we forget the noble count's opinion? Please, share with us your thoughts."

Getting out of his chair, Volger circled the room in a clockwork-like manner. "Our attention for the past half-hour has been pointed towards the south and east. While Russia is a grave threat to our defenses, our greatest threats lie in the north and west. Serbia lacks the morale and manpower to directly oppose us, and Italy is a nation of cowards, to be blunt."

Waechter audibly scoffed, and said, "France and Britain? What're they going to do, intimidate us out of fighting back with their tangled alliances?"

Bringing himself face-to-face with the irate colonel, Volger looked into his eyes with a grim countenance. "That is exactly what I am saying." He fished through his flamboyant Austrian noble's uniform, producing a continental map from within. On it, thin red lines were drawn all over, connecting each country by strings. "The Darwinist powers have only one factor in common: they all hate us more than they hate each other. Belgium wants protection from any chance of Clanker aggression, so they have aligned themselves with France. France has aligned itself with Serbia and Britain, which are allied with Russia and Canada and Italy, who in turn receive American and Japanese imported weapons." With a snap, he rolled up the document and returned it to its former resting place. "One false move, and we bring the wrath of every Darwinist power upon us!"

Hopefully, this would take their attention away from merely crushing Serbia in an overwhelming invasion. The Western Allied Powers posed a much greater threat than their Eastern counterparts.

"Don't forget," Bierman added, "we have Darwinists to contend with in our own lands…" In his hands laid a flyer from the latest Alliance strike, not even a week old.

The elephant in the room had finally been addressed. In recent years, production of Stormwalkers and other armored vehicles had been halted by numerous strikes and protests – all of which were organized by a Ms. Anastasia Gottschalk, the supposed leader of the Austrian Darwinist Alliance. Austria-Hungary was months behind schedule for its wartime production, and the empire's once-loyal citizens were beginning to give cries of dissent.

"Oh, come now!" Waechter cried, "don't act like you believe that Austrian Darwinist nonsense!" Hobbling onto his arthritis-inflamed legs, he furiously grabbed the flyer from his superior's hands, tearing it to pieces before his very eyes. "All those traitorous pinkos want is to see our way of life destroyed! Especially that Gottschalk person, and her damn labor protests. If it were up to me…" his tirade was quickly interrupted by a coughing fit, throwing him off balance and back into his chair.

Rothschild gave a sigh of unease at Waechter's antics. Volger was often amazed that his "friend" got away with such insubordinate behavior and maintained his rank. "Still, though, we cannot discount the influence that woman has on the people here. Especially near the Serbian border, the common folk hail her as a liberator and freedom fighter. We can denounce her all we like, but her following is too influential to be ignored." Eyeing Bierman, he said, "Which is why you were going to negotiate some of her demands today, correct?"

Volger cared little about peasant rebellions. As his father once told him, "after you see them revolt for the first time, it all becomes a predictable cycle of discontent, rebellion, and failure." As far as he was concerned, border defense was a much more important matter than a woman calling herself "God's servant". She could cry havoc all she wanted, but her status as a second-class citizen and a woman would never let her be legitimized in the eyes of the Darwinists outside of Austria-Hungary.

"That is affirmative, Colonel," Bierman responded. "If we want to win this conflict, we need the support of our entire people. Who could do a better job at unifying our Darwinists than her?"

"With all due respect, General," Waechter interjected, "that's some serious wishful thinking. How do we even know she'll cooperate if we give her what she wants?"

"We may never know, Colonel, and that is precisely why I wanted to meet her in person. There is no better way to gauge a person's behavior than to look them in the eye."

When their banter stopped, Volger joined back into the fray. "Assuming that there will be no further discussion on the Austrian Darwinist matter, we need to have formed some sort of plan for Austria's defense by the end of the hour." Pulling out his pocket watch, Volger opened it for his fellow officers to see. "Emperor Franz Joseph demands that his advisors compromise on an all-encompassing plan for defending Austria's borders and launching preliminary attacks into Darwinist territory. Our idea must be presented to the Chief of Staff before sundown."

They worked out complicated strategies for Austria's defense for hours, arguing back and forth on the stability of Russia and the reliability of the Ottomans, until a clear voice emerged from the formerly-chaotic radio broadcast. "General Bierman!" the anxious person on the other side announced, "you are needed in room 1A for an important discussion with a Ms.-" the sound of papers being fumbled reverberated, "Gottschalk, I believe."

Bierman nodded dimly. "Don't wait up for me, friends. Give our report to the Chief of Staff. I will deal with the agitator myself."

"Wait, you mean she's in the compound right now?" Waecther asked. "Why in the world did we even let her in? We're planning our nation's defense here, and we're just going to let her eavesdrop on every word we say?"

"Now, just a moment," Bierman responded, "I highly doubt she will interfere with or even know of our plans. All she has been told is that a high-ranking member of Austria's military wished to negotiate with her in a quiet, remote location. The first floor is nearly empty and soundproof, anyway, so I would be shocked if she actually heard anything above her. Also, she has armed escorts following her every move, and they've presumably searched her for any contraband already."

Waechter was getting himself worked up once more. "Then, what in the world are we doing negotiating with her? That should be the governor's job! All she is a black eye to the war effort! We should just kill her now!"

The aging general merely grunted at his subordinate's rant. "I don't know about you, but I am a man of my word. If I say I will negotiate with someone, there will be no trickery involved. I have no doubts that this will be beneficial to the war effort." Handing his pocketbook over to Rothschild, he said, "I must get going. Once again, don't be late."

Lifting himself up with his cane, Bierman hefted his extra weight out of his chair, and made his way out of the officer's club. After making sure he was gone, Waechter grabbed Bierman's cigar from the ashtray and began smoking it, breathing out lazy clouds of smoke.

"So, in the meantime, what will we do?" Rothschild asked.

He wished he could feel confident in this negotiation, but his logical side reminded him of the unlikeliness of a Darwinist cooperating with a Clanker general, especially someone who has experienced as much as Ms. Gottschalk. "We hope for the best," he said, "but we also expect the worst."

* * *

><p>Anastasia was, once more, surrounded by Clanker soldiers. The only significant part about this time was that she actually <em>wanted <em>to be here.

Not that she enjoyed the company of Clankers. On the contrary, she despised them and everything they stood for. They had taken away nearly everything that she loved, and she would never forgive their kind for that. But, meeting with them today was a necessary evil, of sorts. It may be the only chance the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance had at getting their demands recognized.

They certainly could have improved the décor of the place, though. She wasn't entirely sure why they chose such a run-down hovel to host an important meeting with her, or why they were only utilizing one out of the four floors of this heavily-patrolled building. They wouldn't dare lure her out here to kill her, though. Her followers would rise up to avenge her, and the nations that publically supported her cause would use it as a justification to directly intervene.

The thought of the Austrian Clankers' house of cards collapsing around them warmed her heart.

Speaking of warmth, she was beginning to overheat from the damp humidity of the room. It was balmy and uncomfortable in her patchwork overcoat, sown together from Austrian, Serbian, and Russian officers' uniforms. But, taking it off would eliminate her one ace-in-the-hole, which had been constructed as a result of the knowledge that many Clankers were too formal, and too polite, to directly search a woman for sensitive materials. That certainly didn't stop them from abusing them in other ways, though.

Eventually, an old general stepped through the doorway, while the four guards standing by saluted him. He certainly looked like the type of officer that the Clankers loved: too old to sympathize with the Darwinists, and well-fed to the point of looking unhealthy. He looked at her uncertainly, as if he didn't think she was capable of managing a labor union herself. The nerve of him…and was he staring at her scars? They always fixated on them, as if they didn't want to admit that her dead right eye and burn scar stretching from her left eyelid to her lower jaw was their fault.

The general cleared his throat. "Anastasia Gottschalk, I presume?" he asked, clearly wondering if she was, in fact, the actual leader of the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance, or just a decoy. She would show him; she would show them all who really had the most influence in Austria.

"That's right," she replied. "I'm guessing you're the patsy the Emperor wants me to talk with? Everything we want is listed on these papers-" pushing the small stack of paperwork in front of her towards him, "-and we're not going to grovel to you techno-fascists unless every one of them is agreed to."

The old general's eyes narrowed a bit. "Hmph, 'patsy,' 'Techno-fascists'…don't push me, girl. I want a peaceful solution as much as you do, but many of my superiors would like to see you at the end of a rope. I'm the only one here who wants to give you a square deal." Lighting up his antique pipe, he continued. "Now, let's take a look at these…demands of yours."

Silently, Anastasia rubbed her hands together under the table. This could only end two ways, and the idea of a 50-50 chance of survival didn't appeal to her. Although she would normally be confident in a negotiation, an inescapable feeling of anxiety surrounded her. She was expecting for this meeting to happen in a bright room with plenty of windows and exits, not some run-down house outside of the capital. Perhaps the service tunnel she had caught a glimpse of on the way over might lead into Vienna?

"'We, the undersigned members of the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance, present our grievances to the authority of Austria-Hungary's leaders, in hopes that expanded rights for non-Clanker citizens may be obtained. This includes…the admittance of known Darwinists into Austria-Hungary's military as fully-trained combatants…the removal of excessive taxes on Darwinist households…" The general nodded to her, confirming his approval so far. "The re-opening of trade with Serbia…the legalization of Darwinist imports and goods into Austrian territory…"

He casually sat the papers down and addressed Anastasia. "Well, these seem rather feasible, if I do say so myself. It may require some extensive rewriting of regulations, but it may be possible for Darwinists to serve in our army. Provided, of course, that they familiarize themselves with Clanker technology."

They would never work with Clanker technology, no matter what. Regardless, it was important to agree for now. "I appreciate your support of our ideals, General. If our grievances are addressed, you can expect a halt to our strikes and protests." She knew better than to celebrate now, though. The tougher demands were only a few lines away, and it would be much more difficult to win even the most moderate Clanker over to support them.

Quickly finding his last read section, he continued reading. "The end to hostilities with Russia and Serbia…you are aware that they've rejected our diplomatic efforts to coexist with them, correct?" When she gave no response, he shrugged it off and kept going. "The total conversion of all state-supplied farm equipment from mechanical implements to fabrications…the banning of German imported goods into Austrian territory…are you mad? Do you want our economy to collapse?"

"I've worked on Darwinist farms in the past. You'll find that their fabrications are much more efficient than your soulless machinery." Anastasia paused for a moment, though she wasn't sure if it was for effect, or drawing from her painful memories. "That is, if there are any independent farms owned by Darwinists anymore…" she added, a sense of anguish and resentment present in her voice.

Ignoring her comment, the general moved on. "The elimination of the Austrian aristocracy, and public military tribunals for any known perpetrators of the Prague Massacre of 1903...but they provoked us into firing upon them! How is it a Massacre if a military parade is bombed by terrorists?" Again, silence. "The granting of full amnesty to all known Darwinist dissenters, including the fearless and noble members of the Black Hand and Young Bosnia movement currently imprisoned…"

A tense silence followed. When Anastasia looked up, the general was glaring at her. "You want us to forgive known terrorists just because they agree with you? Are you mad?"

"I'd hardly call a band of freedom fighters struggling for interests of your people 'terrorists.'"

"They throw bombs into crowded streets and assassinate local governors!" his tone had shifted from quiet stoicism to sheer disgust. "How is that 'noble' or heroic? They're nothing more than cowards hiding behind civilians!"

Anastasia slammed both of her hands on the table, shouting, "And arresting and torturing people for not wanting to use your mechanics isn't cowardly? How about the raids on Darwinist intellectuals you bastards have been doing these past few years?!" Her voice quivered with raw emotion as she continued, "How about my family, or my friends, or my _face_? Do you think I was _born _like this? While you and your privileged friends live life on the backs of your people, we're being _torn apart by you desensitized pricks!_" her voice elevating to a shriek all the while.

Anastasia's breaths were heavy and frequent, and forced her to sit down and regain her composure. She had ruined it, she knew it. The old bastard would never agree to a thing she said. The Clankers would never see reason; they only understood brute force and violence. There was only one way out, and that meant using Adrian's device.

Probably knowing what was in store for him, the general skimmed the remaining pages of the grievance list, describing every few demands. "Expulsion of German diplomats from Austria-Hungary, the removal of Emperor Franz Joseph from the throne, the institution of a Darwinist-operated democratic government, the disarmament of Clanker militant groups…" Having now "understood" her wishes to the fullest extent, he slid the papers back to Anastasia. "I can only offer equal representation and taxation of Darwinists to your 'Alliance'. Everything else is out of the question, both for the Austrian Armed Forces and for its aristocracy."

"I didn't come here for a partial solution, General. You can either meet all of our demands, or none of them." Her hands balled into fists beneath the table, attempting to keep her explosive temper in check. Her hatred focused onto the overweight officer staring her down.

If that's what you really want," he replied, exasperated at her stance on the issues, "I'll be leaving to attend to other matters. I am still willing to compromise with you on this, however."

"We've tried compromising in the past, but your people take advantage of us at every turn." Her tone was acidic, having abandoned all formality at this point. "You're just another worthless cog in the Clanker bureaucracy, you know that?"

Just then, she felt a rough hand grab her by the shoulder. "Men, please escort Ms. Gottschalk from the premises. She has grown uncooperative and impossibly-demanding, and cannot contribute anything of value to the meeting anymore."

Before any of the room's other occupants could react, Anastasia produced a flare-like grenade from her overcoat, and pulled the pin in full view of everyone. A blinding flash struck the Austrian soldiers, followed by a deafening explosion of sound. The armed escorts flailed around the room, desperately trying to stabilize themselves from the assault, all while the general struggled to call out for help. All five Clankers in the room were completely oblivious to her unaffected state. As Adrian had warned her regarding his "stun grenade," or whatever he called it, its effects was easily countered by shutting one's eyes.

Taking a bayonet from one of the confused guards on the floor, Anastasia impatiently knocked the table aside, facing the blinded general with her hate-filled eyes. Grabbing him roughly by his hair, she plunged the bayonet into his throat. With the determination of a madman, she stabbed it once more into his carotid artery, then his chest, and his stomach. Releasing the pent-up hatred her feeble exterior had sheltered, she continued stabbing the now-deceased general in his torso, her eyes wild with unheard-of ferocity. In the few seconds this had taken place, her clothes and face had been soaked in blood.

Almost in horror of her own actions, Anastasia dropped the bayonet on the ground, right beside the still-recovering guards. She nervously dropped her own coat, which revealed a near-identical replica of an Austrian soldier's uniform. Had she really murdered a brigadier general in his own outpost? It seemed like an out-of-body experience when she confronted him. And yet, it felt so satisfying…it was an utterly cathartic feeling.

"What the hell is going on down there?" a voice cried from the stairwell. "If any of you lot are fighting each other, it'll be solitary for everyone involved!" The sound of heavy steps descended down the stairwell, and Anastasia's heart skipped a beat. Frantically, she sprinted out the service tunnel, leaving the gruesome evidence of her crime behind. Her contacts in the city should be able to help her flee back to Innsbruck. Now, she had no choice but to start an armed resistance. If the Clankers found her, they'd take her head for such a treasonous move.

War was her only remaining option. If Austria were to survive as a Darwinist republic, the Clankers would have to be wiped out entirely.

* * *

><p>A mere two days after the incident, Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife were fatally poisoned, with the culprits believed to be Serbian nationalists. The search team assembled to track down Anastasia Gottschalk and her associates was recalled, and were instead told to hunt down the perpetrators of the 28th's assassination. To the Austrian bureaucracy, the life of an Archduke was worth much more than a mere brigadier general. While their manhunt for the people believed to be his killers proved successful, Gottschalk eluded their grasp. Every potential lead turned up false or a dead-end, and even the most carefully-planned sting operations were unable to bring her out into the open.<p>

The Black Hand was believed to be eliminated from Austrian soil by mid-1914. Confident that the anarchist threat was ended, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia for its apparent involvement, sending Europe spiraling into a global conflict. Under their noses, however, the Austrian Darwinist Alliance swelled in numbers and strength, until it became apparent that they were more than a mere group of labor agitators…


	2. A Delicate Matter

Chapter 2

"A Delicate Matter"

**Zoological Society of London, British Empire**

**November 28th, 1916**

Within a year, the "War to End all Wars" had ground to a halt, leaving a battered and disorientated Europe to piece together a solution to the conflict. With the crumbling Ottoman Empire now controlled by the neutral Committee of Union and Progress, the empire of Austria-Hungary split in half, and the German army surrounded on all sides, only a hastily-made surrender saved the Clanker nations from destruction. The Darwinist Powers patted themselves on the back for their hard-won victory, and promptly dumped a number of costly reparation fees on the defeated Clanker Powers. While Darwinism prospered, the Clankers faced an insurmountable debt and an economic depression.

No group benefited from this sudden victory more than the Zoological Society. Engorged with the blood money of the defeated Clanker nations, the group expanded its efforts to usurp its mechanical rivals in all fields, hiring dozens of new technicians and fabricators to fuel their research. No longer held back by wartime restrictions, the Society let their boffins run wild, exploring every nook and cranny of fabrication to gain a possible edge.

And Deryn Sharp had the luck to be paired with the most erratic one.

"Come on, Mr. Sharp!" Dr. Schmidt shouted from across the firing range, "they're just bees! Aside from the possibility of getting stung and poisoned, you're in no danger!"

For the past hour, Deryn had been handling prototype fabrications designed specifically to solve problems plaguing British infantry in the previous war, with each beastie getting progressively more ludicrous. It started with "organic radio wave receiver" and had gone to such lengths as "shoulder-stationed fire-breathing salamander." Currently, she was on "wrist-mounted Africanized Honeybee launcher".

Deryn had handled bees aboard the Leviathan with no issues. However, they were strictly bred for their productivity and inability to defend themselves, as opposed to the infamous "killer bees" spawning from the prototype.

"Oh, clart," she muttered, "I'm in over my head…"

"What was that?" the doctor called out. "I couldn't quite hear that!"

Nervously, she edged towards the fabrication. "Sorry! I just said I was going to start the test!" It was either that, or forfeit the hazard pay she was promised. Her ma needed that sort of money, and Deryn wasn't about to give it up because of one poorly thought-out beastie.

On the collapsible table beside her lay an unusual fusion of organic and mechanical material, presumably created by Schmidt himself. The device appeared to be a small beehive, laced with exposed wires connecting the trigger mechanism underneath to the pneumatic air tube on the front. A wrist strap dangled loosely from the bottom of the launcher, and numerous bees crawled around the circumference of it.

"Shouldn't there be a hand guard or something on this?" Deryn asked, audibly concerned about the obvious hazards of the test.

Dr. Schmidt looked up from his clipboard, completely unaware of Deryn's plight. "Wait, why would I put that on it?"

"Well, it's just…I mean…_bees_. They're swarming all over the place! What if they decide they don't like getting shot out of this thing? They could turn on me at a moment's notice!"

"Oh, that's not a problem! They're mindless creatures; they can't even hold grudges in the first place! I don't even think they can tell friend from foe!"

Deryn quickly stepped back from the device, just as the doctor realized the implications of his statement. "Okay, maybe you have a point," he admitted. "_Maybe_. I'll try to alter their mental algorithms for the second trial run."

Just as her fears were alleviated, a new problem dropped into her day. Literally, in this instance.

A message lizard fell from the ventilation shafts overhead onto the table, stirring up the bees around the device. "Message for Mr. Deryn Sharp," it said, attempting to crawl away from the growing swarm.

"Play back." At this point, Deryn was eager to leave. She'd had enough of the daft boffin and his absentminded creations.

The message lizard slipped under the table, clearing its vocal chords to mimic the speech of its prior user. "Mr. Sharp," a collected female voice began, "I have need of you in my quarters for a potential new assignment." She quickly recognized the speaker as Dr. Barlow, the organizer of the _Leviathan_'s voyage to Turkey, and her current employer. "This is a very delicate matter, so don't dally. Count Volger and I are already waiting here for you, and Alek is on his way as I speak." The fabrication attempted to conclude its message, however, the growing swarm of genetically-modified bees promptly surrounded it and began stinging it to death. Weakly, it croaked out an "immediately" before getting dealt the killing blow.

Both Deryn and the boffin eased their way to the opposite side of the room. "You might want to go now," Schmidt whispered to her, reaching for the living flamethrower prototype.

Wasting no time, Deryn sprinted out of the firing range and up the stairs into the living quarters of the Society.

If there was one distinctive factor to the Zoological Society's architecture, it was the grand scale of everything. They had clawed their way up from a negatively-viewed cult-like entity to a critical component of Britain's industrial complex, and their lavishly-decorated headquarters served as a means to illustrate their vast wealth and influence on the monarchy. Any section of the building deemed non-classified was constructed on a massive scale, with towering ceilings stretching up hundreds of feet above the ground, carefully-polished and garish-looking chandeliers illuminated by stationary glow worms, and finely-crafted mahogany furniture scattered around the upper levels. Flanking the public entrance to the Society was a large marble statue of Darwin himself, holding a flaming saber towards the heavens as artificial lights surrounding the monument constantly illuminated his figure. To put it lightly, the members of the Zoological Society were keen on displaying their power to the world at large.

To Deryn, who was ducking and weaving through an authorized school tour of the place, the display was a wee bit excessive. It certainly made you feel like a person of significance, sure, but it was almost hard to look at the wastefulness.

"Pardon me, lass," she said, stepping around the last middle-schooler in her way. It probably didn't help that she came from a rather poor family, or that she was still relatively new to the Society. But, even Dr. Barlow thought it was a bit daft to require a portrait of Darwin in every room, and she was his own bleeding granddaughter!

After a considerable amount of running, Deryn reached the lifts. Normally, the stairs would work just as well, but she was probably running late as it is. Impatiently, she pressed the number "3" several times, hoping to speed up the elevator's arrival. However, the "current floor" light failed to change after nearly a minute of waiting, causing an exasperated Deryn to start pressing the other remaining keys.

"It's broken, I'm afraid," a familiar Germanic voice called out from behind her. Deryn turned around to find none other than Alek Ferdinand himself, wearing a grease-soaked Zoological Society engineer jumpsuit.

Deryn felt her heart skip a beat.

"Alek! What are you doing here? I thought you were upstairs with-"

"Barlow and Volger? I should be, but I got a bit sidetracked," he said, pointing towards the out-of-service lift beside them. "I was ordered to get this up-and-running by the top of the hour."

"I'm guessing that didn't end well?" she asked cheekily.

Alek nodded. "Apparently, there aren't that many people around here who have experience with machinery. I was the only one working in the elevator shaft the entire time! Unless, of course, you count the glow worms." He shuddered at the sight of those wretched creatures slithering along the walls, basking the cramped space in their unearthly green light.

Deryn couldn't help but laugh. "Two years in the service, and you're shaken up by them? I don't think I'll ever make a proper Darwinist out of you, Alek!" On his first day working for the Society, Alek promptly removed every fabricated utility from his room, replacing them with improvised devices he would create in his spare time. When Deryn found out, he became the source of ribbing and light-hearted jabs for the following weeks to come.

"Just-look," he began, trying to hide his embarrassment, "I know that everything here has to be organic-"

"-Except for the lifts, apparently-"

"-Yes, except for the lifts, but there's a point where it gets excessive. Think about it: do you really want your lights or heating to be able to have minds of their own? I just can't sleep knowing that there might be something watching me or memorizing everything I've said!"

Admittedly, Alek had a point, even if it was a rather paranoid one. "Aye, but it's best not to look at it that way. I doubt they can even understand English, anyway."

"I certainly hope not…" he muttered, just as the central clock of the Society chimed four times for the top of the hour. "_Verdammt_, we're late. Let's just take the stairs."

"After you, my ex-princeliness," Deryn said, giving a mock bow.

The two began ascending the ornate, circular staircase to the living quarters above, each step creaking under their feet. Deryn's thoughts quickly soon off to the situation at hand for much more personal matters. More specifically, to the daft yet quick-minded and rather handsome Clanker that had become an inseparable part of her life.

She still couldn't believe she met Alek only two years ago. It felt like she had known him all her life. He was so stubborn, so naïve when she first met him...but he had changed. True, he could still be a _dummkopf_ when he was wrong, but he had adjusted to Darwinism better than she had expected. Her gaze drifted up to his clean-shaven face, still as welcoming and friendly as it seemed when they first opened up to each other. Those two years certainly didn't hurt his looks, either. She was still the taller of the two, but those months on the _Leviathan_ really shaped him up."

A pang of regret flittered through her subconscious at the mere mention of that word. To her, the _Leviathan_ signified her greatest contributions to the British Empire, all while under the threat of exposure as a girl. The day she finally had to leave the service for Barlow's safer job at the Zoological Society was grim for both her and Alek.

It didn't help that she was bawling like some skirt-wearing ninny all night. In a rare moment of weakness for her, she asked Alek to stay beside her for the first night, clinging to the one connection to her past that remained. She missed being in the air. There was so much excitement, such danger! It felt like a real home. Compared to aiding a Turkish revolution and holding off an attack on a massive energy weapon, working at the Society seemed like she was barely contributing anything to her country.

Deep down, though, she knew that it was the best option for her. Getting outed as a woman would only be a minor scandal in the Zoological Society; in the Air Service, she would get court-martialed for violating a clearly-stated regulation in the recruitment waivers. Even though her missions were smaller in scale, she knew that even the tiniest bit of help could tip the scales in Britain's favor. She certainly hadn't gotten softer, either: the self-imposed conditioning for assignments abroad coupled with the two years of growth had caused her to mature into a strong, determined woman.

When they had reached the third floor, Deryn felt a sharp pain in her chest, knocking her off-balance and forcing her to catch her balance on the handrail. Hearing her grunt of pain, Alek ran to her side.

"What happened? Are you alright?" he asked, visibly concerned for his best friend's health.

Deryn rapidly regained her breath. Speaking of maturing into a woman… "I'm fine. It's just…you know," she said, making a "wrapping" motion around her chest.

Alek's face flushed once more. "Oh. I'll, um, keep an eye out for you."

When she was sure the coast was clear, she slipped her arms into her uniform, reaching for the bindings around her modestly-sized chest, and loosening them just enough to give her more breathing room. When she was on the _Leviathan_, she was just starting to develop around there, making constrictions a non-issue for the most part. However, as time caught up to her, her "diddies" became more prominent than before, forcing Deryn to experiment with tightness levels in order to avoid any suspicion.

With a snap, she finished messing with her bindings, and tapped Alek on the shoulder. "You can look this way now, Alek," she said.

"Just trying to give you some modesty, _Dylan."_The two resumed walking through the hall in search of their employer.

"Aye, and I do appreciate it! It's just a tad bit obnoxious at times." His respect for women and insistence on modesty could almost border on celibacy if left unchecked. Nothing that a quick snogging couldn't change, of course.

"You make that sound like a crime! What, would you rather have me act lecherous and rude?"

"Honestly, I can't imagine you _being_any other way. Polite, I mean. Not like a lecher."

"Speaking of being polite and respectful," he added, tugging on his dirty jumpsuit, "I should've thought to change clothes before this. What if Dr. Barlow goes into conniptions when I get grime all over her office?"

They soon stopped upon reaching the door with the brass marker labeled "Barlow, Nora."

"It's a little late for that," she said. "Just try not to sit down or get near the walls. In fact, just don't touch anything."

With a turn of the doorknob, Deryn and Alek stepped into the confines of Dr. Barlow's personal office.


	3. Silent Partnership

**A/N: Hello, everyone! I never included any author comments or clarification in the previous chapters, so here we go.**

**First of all, I'd like to establish the update schedule: if all goes according to plan, expect a new chapter once every week to two weeks. If I lose track of the quota, I'll try to get back on it.**

**Second, the time period deserves some mention. Most of the story will take place in late 1916 to 1917. There will be chapters taking place in the past, but those will be self-contained and serve to establish plot points/character traits. The events of _Leviathan, Behemoth, _and _Goliath _will be referenced periodically.**

**Third of all, yes, this story will have quite a few OC's. I am taking painstaking measures to ensure that they will be unique, will contribute to the story, and will avoid becoming blatant self-inserts.**

**Fourth, any and all reviews are greatly appreciated. I'm open to constructive criticism, so feel free to share your thoughts in the review box below.**

**Last but certainly not least, I am not Scott Westerfeld. I own nothing related to his works, including the _Leviathan _series. I do not claim ownership to any characters of his used in this story. **

**With all of that in mind, enjoy the third chapter of _Between Two Giants_!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 3<p>

"Silent Partnership"

**Zoological Society of London, British Empire**

**November 28****th****, 1916**

"Well, it certainly took the two of you long enough to arrive," Dr. Barlow said. "Come in; we have much to discuss and not much time to do so."

Deryn's first memories of Dr. Barlow involved her sudden takeover of the _Leviathan_ under orders from London, and how the entire crew got involved in a convoluted conspiracy in the Ottoman Empire involving a perspicuous loris and at least one kraken. Needless to say, she had a great deal of authority at her disposal, and was never afraid to exercise it around complete strangers.

"I said come in! Don't stand there!"

Not wanting to hold up the meeting any longer, Deryn and Alek took their seats in front of the lady boffin's desk. Unlike the rest of the Zoological Society, Dr. Barlow's office was rather modest and plain. The only furniture in the moderately-sized room were four wooden chairs and an oak desk covered with unfinished paperwork. To the immediate right of Barlow sat Count Volger, his eyes fixated on Alek with a look of concern.

Turning to face Alek and Deryn, Dr. Barlow began speaking. "I will need your utmost attention for the next five minutes. This is a matter concerning - pardon me a moment," she asked spontaneously, "but why are you covered in oil, Aleksander?"

"It's actually grease, doctor, and I was repairing the central elevator in the lobby. Or, _attempting_ to repair it. Speaking of which, why do you have a mechanical lift in a place like this?"

"In all honesty? We've been unable to create anything better for the past few years," she admitted. "Organic life can be molded into so much, but there are limitations to every sort of material. It was much simpler to just hire a machinist to build that contraption here. The only problem is that very few of us actually understand how to maintain it, myself included. Which is why you," she pointed to Alek's grease-stained clothing, "have been getting more odd jobs than the rest of us. Nothing personal, of course."

"Actually, that makes me feel much better!" he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I had thought the Zoological Society still didn't trust me."

Barlow couldn't suppress a smirk. Truth be told, her associates still had little to no trust in Alek, despite his crucial contributions to them both during the war and after. Her attempts to convince them of his worth were typically met with jingoistic reminders that "those damn Clankers killed my brother/son/father/wife/distant relative! Why should I trust a Clanker, let alone a bleeding Clanker _prince_?"

"Oh, of course they trust you now!" Barlow gleefully said. "The English take pride in our tolerance and love of other cultures and nations, even if they disagree with us."

Deryn opened her mouth, intending to bring up the Scottish Wars of Independence or the troubles in Ireland, but remembered who her current audience was. Best not to talk about ethnic struggles with a proud Englishwoman.

"Is there something you wanted to add, Mr. Sharp?"

"Oh, it was nothing really!" Deryn responded, trying to deflect attention away from herself. "Just…well, is that why radios aren't allowed in the Zoological Society?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We're very strict about maintaining an all-natural environment here, barring the necessary mechanical lift. Although I recognize the vast potential radio has, some of my colleagues are, shall I say, blinded by pride. That blasted Lord Kelvin," she muttered with a scoff. "'Radio has no future,' he says. Meanwhile, the Germans were sending orders back and forth faster than we could even write them!"

"Just a minute," Alek piped in, "don't you have a ham radio stashed away in here somewhere? I could have sworn you were using one several days back!"

Dr. Barlow's smile dropped. "For your own sake, Aleksander, I wouldn't say that too loudly." Running her hands through the mess of papers, she quickly pulled three specific pieces from the rest. "In any case, I'm afraid that we're deviating from the issue at hand."

"Some sort of assignment for us, right?" Deryn asked.

"That's correct." Placing her bowler hat on the table, she anxiously straightened out her hair. "However, this is a much more volatile situation than what you might be used to. Although you both have been through some harrowing experiences in the past, this is a different matter entirely."

Alek immediately spoke up. "I'd hate to be the Doubting Thomas here, Dr. Barlow, but what could be make this job so much worse than what we've already been through? Deryn and I already helped overthrow a tyrant and ward off a German task force as it is. What else could be worse than that?"

Dr. Barlow shifted uncomfortably in her seat, reluctant to break the news to either of them. "Full-scale civil war," she eventually said.

Alek's heart leaped into his throat. There was only one widespread civil war going on within their area of operation – and that was…

"Austria?" he weakly asked.

Barlow nodded. "It's a mystery to us all how it's lasted this long, or how the rebels have even managed to take control of so much territory. I hadn't expected it to last half a year, but it's still going strong two years later…"

Being the one person in the group with the least understanding of Central European politics, Deryn felt out-of-the-loop. "I'm a wee bit lost here. I know there's some sort of war going on in Austria, but what's exactly happening?"

For the first time, Volger spoke up. "If I may, Nora?"

"By all means, Count. This is your homeland we're speaking about, after all." Casually, she passed off the documents to Volger.

"Very well." He cleared his throat with a deep cough, and addressed Deryn. "Austria has been in a rather inconvenient position since the rival technologies of Europe began creating tension. It has always been a machine-oriented nation at heart, but it is also directly influenced by its neighbors. To the north lies Germany, its overbearing benefactor and Clanker ally, while in the South and East are Serbia and Russia, which you are already acquainted with. We thought that this war would be an easy victory, that the people would rally behind our cause and vanquish our Darwinist foes!" It was clear that Volger still held some pride for his homeland of Austria, even though they had sold him and Alek out to the Germans. It seemed a bit daft to Deryn, but it was best to bite her tongue for now.

"And I'm guessing they didn't? But why not?" Deryn asked curiously.

"A number of reasons," he answered, getting out of his chair and pacing back and forth across the room. "We had been, shall I say, "mistreating" some of our citizens. Primarily Darwinist sympathizers and anarchists, but later on it encompassed all non-Clanker citizens. While Austria barely held off Russia's offensives into its lands, it had an even greater struggle invading Serbia. Not only was Serbia well-defended, but they always seemed to know when Austria was going to attack. Almost as if they had agents on our side of the border."

"What makes you think the informers were Austrian?"

"I didn't _think _they were Austrian, Sharp, I _knew_. Soon enough, they were finding Austrian irregulars among the Serbian forces; defectors from the local civilian population, even during the failed siege of Belgrade. Supporters of this woman," he handed Deryn a blurry photograph, "to be exact."

The woman pictured had noticeable facial scarring and a seemingly inexhaustible look to her; presumably, she was in her mid-thirties. She appeared to be discussing some matter with a man who was partially out of the border. Judging by her facial expressions, she probably wasn't aware of the photo being taken.

"Anastasia Gottschalk," Volger continued, "leader of the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance, ardent Luddite, and 'champion of the oppressed.' Before the war, we attempted to negotiate with her over the strikes and organized boycotts that were plaguing our production efforts. Needless to say, it didn't turn out as we had planned. She murdered one of our top commanders, escaped into hiding, and rallied the Darwinist sympathizers behind her. It was around this time that Alek and I fled to the Alps," he commented, as Alek continued to remain silent. "They frequently ambushed the Austrian military during their retreat to the border, and eventually began a campaign to push their loyalist countrymen north. It goes without saying that they have been successful."

"However," Dr. Barlow added, "their tactics are unusual for a revolutionary group, even if they are well-numbered. Guerilla warfare and hit-and-run methods have been employed by them, but their reclamation of Tyrol was a mix of urban warfare, shock and awe tactics, and black propaganda. It was too well-organized for a single woman to think up, even one as crafty as Ms. Gottschalk."

"Which is why I have reason to believe this man is involved," he said, pushing the second photo towards Deryn. Unlike the previous picture, this appeared to be an official military portrait. The subject was a black-haired man wearing a well-decorated officer's uniform from an unidentifiable army. His face betrayed no signs of emotion as he stared into the camera, and his arms were crossed along his chest. To Deryn, he seemed to be an unimpressive sight.

"Who is he?"

"He's an interloper, someone who doesn't belong in the equation. An ex-Serbian officer who reportedly came into contact with Anastasia and her rebels, named Lehmann. Most likely, he has been organizing the Darwinists into an efficient fighting force. Not much else is known so far, I'm afraid."

So, rebellions, a mess of alliances causing havoc, and now international involvement in a civil war. Deryn finally understood the enormity of the situation. "Alright, I think I'm up to speed now," she said, internally grateful that the drawn-out exposition could stop. "So, what you need is for Alek and I to go to Austria and assist this – who was it again, Gottschalk? Help out some Darwinists in need?"

She could almost feel Volger burning a metaphorical hole in her head with his glare. Dr. Barlow was the first to speak up. "As I said, this is a much different matter than what you're used to."

"Well, there can't be too much of a difference between helping Turkish rebels and Austrian rebels, right..."

Suddenly, the realization hit her like a gale force wind.

"…You want us to stop the rebellion, don't you?"

Barlow gave her an affirmative nod, and handed her the final photograph. Four men in traditional Clanker overcoats were sitting around a smoky room, appearing to be embroiled in a fierce debate. On the bottom right hand corner lay a note – "Austrian Defense Preparations, 1914. Waechter, Rothschild, Bierman, and Wildcount Volger pictured."

"Lt. General Rothschild and Colonel Waechter are high-ranking officers in the Republic of German Austria's armed forces. You will be working with them to put an end to this conflict and push all Darwinist influence out of Austria. I will be indirectly aiding you along the way, but I will need you both to not mention me by name. For all intents and purposes, I will be your silent partner."

Deryn wasn't sure what was more shocking: the fact that she was being ordered to defeat a Darwinist group, or that _Dr. Barlow _of all people was commanding her to do so. Her patronizing and skeptical treatment of Tesla for his designs certainly made her seem less willing to work with Clankers than Deryn had thought, and now she wanted to intervene on their behalf?

"Blisters," she muttered, dazed at the surrealistic turn of events in the meeting so far. "Not trying to be rude here, doctor, but why are you just sending Alek and I on this one? Wouldn't someone like Captain Hobbes do a better job of strategizing with those people?"

"Ordinarily, I would call on one of our tacticians for a task like this." Barlow let out an exasperated sigh. "However, supporters of Austria are few and far between here. I had a difficult time just convincing people to listen to my reasoning! Believe me, I haven't suddenly warmed up to the Central Powers, but there will be dire consequences if this conflict escalates any further."

"Another European powder keg, to be exact," Volger chimed in, "only, this time, the Darwinists will be driven by vengeance rather than glory. If left to their devices, I fear that the loss of life on both sides may be catastrophic."

As if there wasn't enough pressure on her already. Now, they had to stop _another_ Great War from happening? "So, why the Clankers and not the Darwinists? To me, it sounds like they have every reason to be angry with their leaders! Shouldn't we be helping them out instead?" Deryn hoped that she wasn't offending Alek or, to a much lesser extent, Volger, with her outbursts.

"I realize this a confusing matter, Mr. Sharp, but this is a very…unique…situation Austria is in. Much of Europe is still bitter over the Great War, and won't hesitate to avenge their fallen heroes with the blood of Clankers. Austria's leaders may have a number of faults, but I can tell that it won't be any better under Gottschalk. Austria needs to appear powerful enough to deter an invasion. The Russian Empire has reportedly taken an interest in the conflict, and it's no secret that Serbia is supporting the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance. If they capitulate to the rebels, there will only be one predominantly Clanker nation left in Europe, and I wouldn't be surprised if we see an unprovoked invasion of Germany if Austria is defeated. The entire balance of power will be thrown off, and we may see an end to an entire way of life!"

"In addition, Russia is looking for an excuse to directly intervene," Volger added. "In recent years, they have been dealing with dissenters of their own. If they can rally their people behind an easy and victorious war, then perhaps they can be distracted from their societal and economic problems."

The entire prospect made Deryn feel uneasy. Everything was so simple during the war: if they fabricated, they were allies; if they constructed, they were enemies. Ever since her postwar missions with Alek, the lines between ally and enemy were becoming blurred.  
>"Deryn, Alek," Dr. Barlow said in a reassuring tone, "I wouldn't have assigned you this if I thought you were going to fail. You both have been through so much together in the past couple years, and I promise this will go smoothly."<p>

Finally breaking his silence, Alek looked up at his employer. "When do we head off?" he asked, almost sounding fearful.

"The 30th, actually. Volger will accompany you both, as he is the most acquainted with Austria's military experts. Do I need to clarify any other details?"

At this point, Deryn wasn't sure if any of her questions would help, or just create more confusion. The safest option was to remain silent.

"Very well. Pack lightly, and maintain a low profile until you arrive in Austria. You'll be pleased to know that the _Leviathan_ will be your escort until you come into contact with the Austrian military. At that point, you'll be on your own."

At the mere mention of the word "Leviathan", some of her uneasiness faded away. At least there were some certainties in life one could count on.

"With that in mind, shove off for the next couple days. You both have been working hard, and I need you as mentally prepared for this as possible." Dr. Barlow gave a salute, and began shuffling through the paper-laden mess on her desk. "Dismissed," she added, before resuming her attempt at organizing several weeks' worth of paperwork.

Alek's uncharacteristic silence worried Deryn more than anything. "Hey Alek," she began, "mind if I talk with you for a moment?"

No one responded. Alek's seat had been empty.

Volger casually strolled to the doorway. "If I were you, _Mr_. Sharp," he commented, "I would give him some reprieve for now." He soon departed, leaving Deryn alone with Dr. Barlow and an unorganized mound of documents.

* * *

><p>For the first time since his flight from Vienna, Alek couldn't sleep.<p>

It certainly wasn't from cowardice. Normally, he'd be happy to take an overseas assignment from Dr. Barlow. It allowed him to prove his worth to the strictly Darwinistic members of the Zoological Society, and gave him the freedom of movement he enjoyed so much during his impromptu tour of duty aboard the _Leviathan_. More importantly, it gave him enough space from Volger and Barlow to cozy up with Deryn, who had taken an irreplaceable spot in his heart since Japan. But, this time, his mind filled with thoughts of dread and failure, and his heartbeat still hadn't leveled out since the bombshell had been dropped.

Throwing himself out of bed for the fifth time so far, Alek dragged himself out of his room, shielding his eyes from the partially dimmed glow worms hanging from the rafters.

He shuffled lazily around the hallway, not having any particular direction in mind. At this point in the day, he was physically exhausted, but his subconscious refused to give him quarter.

All of the doors in the dormitories looked alike, confusing Alek's sleep-deprived brain even more. The disgusting-looking brown and yellow carpeting certainly wasn't a pleasure to look at, either. The Zoological Society spent so much time and money on the grand entrance that they often neglected to fix basic issues around the third floor. Bureaucracy at its finest, really.

Suddenly, his knees gave out, causing him to tumble to the floor in a dazed heap. His head was spinning, his legs ached from the previous trips around the facility, and overall, he felt unwell. Vaguely, he could hear voices in the distance, but he didn't care at this point; if they saw the ex-heir to the Austrian throne lying on the ground in a stupor, so be it.

The voices grew closer and more singular in tone. He could barely make out his name being repeated in a hushed tone, but his worn-out thought processes gave it no worries.

"Alek," a higher-pitched voice whispered angrily.

"In a minute, mother," he slurred back, his thoughts drifting back to the simpler days before the summer of 1914.

"Alek," it repeated more urgently.

He ignored it this time, rolling over onto his back and squinting at the dimmed lights shining down upon him. His father had promised to set things right in the goodwill visit to Sarajevo. Although he never said when he and mother would return to Vienna, he reassured his son of the precautions that had been taken for their safety. "When I return," his last words promised, "I will have created peace for your lifetime, my dear Aleksander."

Alek couldn't help but chuckle at the cruelty of it all.

"ALEK!" Deryn nearly screamed at him, slapping him across the face to get his attention. Now freed from his stupor, he became keenly aware of the pain, and cursed loudly in German. Furiously, he covered the reddened half of his face, trying to dull the soreness.

"What the hell was that for!?" he cried out, ignorant of the boffins next door attempting to sleep.

"Before anything else, quiet down!" Deryn responded in a hushed tone. "Do you even know what time it is, Alek?"

"I don't know! Eleven, Twelve? Last time I checked, the only clock around is on the first floor!"

Deryn's confused anger turned to concern. "Alek," she worriedly said, "it's four o'clock. Have you been awake this entire time?"

"No!" Then again, he never lost consciousness at any time that evening. Could he have been trudging around the Zoological Society all night? "I mean, possibly." Mentally fatigued, he continued on. "Most likely." Fear crept into his voice. "I can't sleep. Not even a wink. Something's wrong with me, I know it."

"I'll say," she said back, looking up and down at his appearance. "You look like a mess. Honestly, I can't remember ever seeing you unkempt like this before." Admittedly, working for the doctor so frequently had caused her more advanced vocabulary to rub off on her.

A wave of self-awareness hit Alek at that moment, and he realized how disheveled and wrinkled his evening clothing was. Even Deryn, in her standard-issue brown sleepwear from the Air Service, looked groomed and clean compared to him.

"Here," Deryn whispered, taking his hand and leading him back the way he came, "I think you need someone to talk to."

Unlike before, Alek's vision was no longer blurred by a partial state of slumber. The rows of doors and sharp turns were much clearer now, thanks to the timely blow from Deryn. He often forgot how hard that girl could hit when she actually put her mind to it.

They stopped at Deryn's room, still marked with the fallacious text of "SUB-LIEUTENANT DYLAN SHARP". With a turn of her key, she opened the door, quickly pulling him in and locking the door behind them.

Deryn's room was similar to his own, barring the more organic structure and presence of fabricated utilities around. All non-essential personnel were given the same room layout: a single hard mattress with white sheets and pillows, a sturdy desk in front of the window populated with texts detailing the organization's history, a closet, and metallic walls adorned with white paint. Nothing exactly to write home about, but passable at best.

Both Deryn and Alek took seats on the bed. She was the first of the two to speak up.

"You looked like hell out there, Alek," she said, trying to keep a collected expression. "You were all curled up, muttering something or another about your parents going somewhere. If I hadn't known you any better, I'd have thought you were drunk. But…seeing you like that made me panic. You're normally so composed, I didn't know what was wrong." Sheepishly, she added, "Sorry about slapping you, by the way."

By then, the pain had dulled to an ignorable feeling. "It's fine."

"Is it because of the assignment, Alek? Is that why you've been keeping to yourself?"

Faintly, he said, "Yes."

"How long have you known about this civil war? Honestly, I only knew bits and pieces about it until this afternoon."

"Too long. Ever since Dr. Barlow got us into the Society, I've been trying to keep track of it. Nothing but bad news every day, it seemed." Despondently, Alek sighed. "It's more than just the civil war that's been bothering me, though."

He felt Deryn's warm hand on his thigh. "It's alright, Alek. You can talk to me about it, if you want to."

God's wounds, just being around her put him at ease. The tension in his shoulders seemed to evaporate, and his heartbeat continued its quickened pace – but in a much more bearable way. "Well…what worries me most, well, going back to Austria. Seeing people that might recognize me. Just…_returning_, after all I've done."

"Why would you worry about that?" she asked, concerned and confused about her best friend's anxiety. "You're a hero to them, Alek! Remember who stopped Goliath from firing on Berlin? That was you!"

"Officially, that was a test fire that went awry and killed Tesla." Which, in his opinion, he preferred to an investigative report that would have said, "Ex-Clanker prince murders beloved inventor in his own facility."

"Well, blast all that fame anyhow! You still did wonders to move the peace along, what with all those speeches and tours of America...what I'm trying to say is, you don't give yourself enough credit where it's due. You've been like that since you helped rig up those Stormwalker engines in the Alps, and it hasn't changed one bit. If you would just take more pride in your work-"

"No, no! You're missing the point!" Alek said back, desperately holding back the flood of tears he felt coming on. "It's not a matter of taking credit for what I've done right; it's what I've done wrong! I threw away my right to the throne like it was just a piece of garbage!" He could feel his throat choking up, and ashamedly turned away from Deryn.

"That's what this is about? Alek, you said so yourself: it wasn't going to be worth anything in the long run. Look at Austria now; there's no Empire to inherit! It was all just for show!"

"That's just it," he bitterly noted, "it was just for show. I showed the world that I disowned my homeland and my people. I showed them I would rather work for their enemies than help them in their time of need." Sobs began to shake his body, and he struggled to keep his breathing under control. "I showed them I didn't care about them at all!" All of his pent-up emotions were being released, and in front of his best friend no less.

Deryn finally realized that Alek was at an emotional low. Seeing the brave, thickheaded ex-prince break down in front of her awoke her inner protective instincts, and she gently wrapped her arms around his shaking body. "You showed how much you cared about me, too," she said softly. "And I will never, ever forget how much you cared about me even before you knew I was a lass."

Alek pulled her as close as he possibly could, resting his head on her shoulder. "Still," he said, his voice audibly shaking, "no one else knows that. As far as the Austrians know, I threw that scroll away in disgust!"

"I doubt that," she whispered into his ear. "You've always been a practical person to the public. They wouldn't think you deliberately destroyed your claim to the throne out of spite. More than likely, they probably don't even know you threw it into the sea."

Alek paused for a moment. "You're right. But, they still know I abandoned their way of life for some rival nation's. They might think I'm a heretic or turncoat."

"And now you're over-thinking it. Even if they did hold a grudge against you, you get the chance to prove them wrong now."

"How?"

"When we aid the Austrian army, who do you think their people will see helping their leaders prevent a complete takeover of their country? None other than ex-prince Aleksander Hohenberg, the prodigal son of the Clanker masses! You can be a hero to them again!"

Alek had to consider the entire scenario. "If all goes well, that is."

"And it will!" Deryn said, breaking their hug and patting him on the back. "We've always had luck on our side, and this'll be no different. I doubt we'll be there for more than three months, assuming all goes well. Maybe we won't even have to fight; maybe we could negotiate with the rebels and address the problems they've been having!"

Having finally regained his composure, Alek couldn't help but smile through the tears. "Deryn Sharp, what would I do without you? You complete me."

A feminine blush crept onto her face. Rather hesitantly, her lips met his in a nervous kiss. "Love you, Alek," she whispered.

He pulled Deryn closer, passionately kissing her until the two were tangled together on the bed. He believed in abstaining before marriage, but a bit of snogging wasn't exactly against his faith's doctrines. "Love you too, _mein leuchtender stern_."


	4. Reminiscing

Chapter 4

"Reminiscing"

**Aboard the **_**H.M.S. Leviathan**_

**November 30th, 1916**

Somewhere above the clouds of continental Europe, the _Leviathan_ steamed along at a steady pace, leaving a trail of diesel-fueled smoke in its wake. The cold winds brushed aimlessly off of its organic membrane, as the whale-like fabrication bristled its cilia to keep a moderate temperature. The sun beamed its magnificent rays all around the sky, providing some form of warmth for its crew. Thousands of feet below, Europe seemed like an insignificant speck on the grand space of the world, its growing problems a nonissue for the British airmen above it. High above the land, it almost seemed peaceful.

For Deryn, nothing quite beat the feeling of being in the skies again. It brought out an indescribable emotion in her: whether it was the rush of wind blowing through your hair at fifty miles per hour, the thrill of climbing the ratlines across the airbeast, or even the interior workings of the vessel, it made her feel at home. Then again, when your only other home is filled with relatives desperate to force you into wearing dresses, you take whatever else there is.

Despite her current status as a civilian, her membership with the Zoological Society granted her the same privileges she held during her service in the Air Services, including free access to all sections of the airbeast. Currently, this equated to "dogging her former crewmates into talking about every single voyage since her departure."

"-And then? What happened after you arrived at Istanbul?"

Midshipman Newkirk sighed, continuing his steady and even pace of swabbing the interior deck. "Well, we were on a relief mission. Officially, that is." He carefully maneuvered around Sharp with the mop, attempting to ignore the kink developing in his lower back.

Newkirk was possibly the first friend Deryn met during her tour of duty. Although he was a year her senior, they had bonded through their initial statuses as fishes-out-of-water aboard the ship. However, despite being a close confidant before she had met Alek, she still considered him to be the least-qualified for serving aboard an airbeast. It wasn't anything personal: he was a good-hearted lad with his head in the right place, but he was still a Monkey Luddite with a minor phobia of fabrications. If Alek's fears were humorous and benign, Newkirk's were a permanent roadblock in his way to a promotion. For better or probably worse, Fitzroy was serving back aboard the ship, having apparently replaced her upon her departure. There were some other new crew members as well. She wondered if Matthews was still here after the incident in the straits and his delayed rescue by the _Leviathan's_ commandos. Then again, it was for the best that they never saw each other again.

"But there was more to it than that, wasn't there?" Deryn asked, prodding him with the rim of her black officer's cap. Being aboard the _Leviathan_ gave her an excuse to don her prized uniform once more, and she saw no reason to squander the opportunity. Besides, this allowed her to playfully rib Newkirk once more with her rank.

"No, once we got there, we got our _real _orders. Some Clanker boffin wanted to defect, and for some reason, they wanted us to contact him. The whole situation was bang out of order, in my own opinion. Why not send the diplomats for that?" The internals of the airbeast hummed along audibly, giving him some minor chills. "I may have warmed up to this beastie in the past year, but that doesn't mean there aren't times when it gets barking unsettling up here. I'm surprised it took you and Alek that long to abandon ship, so to speak."

Deryn's nostalgic yearning kicked in once more. "You know how I am, Newkirk," she said, her longing evident in her tone. "My real home's up here in the clouds."

Newkirk involuntarily yelped as his back contorted uncomfortably, causing him to awkwardly throw himself back to regain his balance. "Well," he commented, trying to straighten himself out, "your home hasn't changed much, Dylan. Fitzroy gets the glory and the attention, and I'm stuck with the crap jobs!" Frustrated, he tossed the mop aside and leaned against the inner membrane. "You know what – time for a break. I've had enough back-breaking tasks for one week."

Even during her tenure in the Leviathan, Newkirk tended to get saddled with the less desirable jobs aboard. Sure, he would occasionally serve a role on the ratlines, like when he signaled Deryn aboard during her accident with the Huxley. But, there was only so much a boy could do when he was afraid of a good chunk of the ship. "Hate to keep bringing you down, Newkirk, but what else _could _you do? Handle the strafer hawks or flechette bats?"

"Exactly that! Why shouldn't I handle them? The only way to improve my communication skills with those beasties is to throw myself in the thick of it!"

Newkirk seemed awfully confident for a boy who had squealed in terror at the first sight of a hydrogen sniffer. "What, you? Work with the beasties? Not trying to be rude, but how are you going to do anything with them when you're deathly afraid of them?"

"Who said I was still deathly afraid of them?" Deryn's interest was regained at his remark. What was he talking about?

"What are you saying, Newkirk?" she asked.

Newkirk was sporting a wry grin. "That's a story for another time. After all, aren't I allowed to keep some secrets of my own?"

So many barking secrets these days! Why couldn't people just be straightforward with everything? Now even Newkirk was keeping things from her! "Great, another old bum-rag with a secret to keep," she muttered.

Newkirk chuckled, and added, "That's one thing I've missed, honestly."

"What?" Admittedly, she hadn't a clue as to what he was talking about.

"Those words I've only heard from you!" Deryn's visible confusion spurred him on to continue talking. "You know, 'clart', 'bum-rag', 'barking', that sort of thing. I've only heard that from a few people other than you, and it's just downright odd for something to go wrong without hearing Dylan Sharp cry, 'barking spiders!'"

"W-well," she said, struggling to keep the embarrassment out of her voice, "it's not like I say those all the time! Besides, I've been getting away from saying those lately."

"That was supposed to be a compliment, you know." As if to accentuate his point, he gave her a rough pat-on-the-back and said, "There's no reason to stop talking the way you do! It's what makes you stand out!"

"I know what you're trying to say, but the standards in the society are much, _much_, different than up here. I have to watch what I say in front of the boffins! Last time I referred to a German as 'clart-for-brains,' I had to sit through an hour-long rant about how my manners were awful!"

"I suppose," he commented with a shrug, "but it's just a bit unusual. I'm positive they won't mind if you just act like yourself."

Relieved by his advice, Deryn took a spot next to him against the wall, getting a good look at him for the first time since her arrival with Alek several hours ago.

Credit where credit was due: in the two years since she had last seen him in person, Newkirk had certainly shaped up his appearance. Not exactly on-par with Alek, of course, but she had never viewed Newkirk as anything more than a friend. No longer lanky or uncomfortable in his own shoes, he had grown into a tall, dignified member of the _Leviathan_. He kept himself clean-shaven and trimmed, showing much more care about his appearance than before, and had finally figured out how to tie that necktie that had driven him mad for the first few months. Even _she_ knew how to do that, and she wasn't even supposed to be wearing a tie!

"So, you were saying something about Turkey?" She wanted to hear the unfinished tale he had been getting into. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that she had literally traveled across the world during her time aboard the _Leviathan. _When you're risking life and limb every day and embarking on bizarre adventures, the months seemed to pass by in a flash.

"About what? Oh, right, the mission in Turkey." Newkirk caught a glimpse of Mr. Rigby through the deck windows, and quickly grabbed the mop off the floor to resume his duties. "Well, this boffin would only defect if we did a favor for him. He wanted us to evacuate this group of people in Istanbul from the Ottoman Empire into Serbia. So, we went on this wild goose chase around the city looking for these people called Armenians and smuggled them onto the _Leviathan_. We got a good talk about why they needed to be taken out of the city as quickly as possible. They were in grave danger, after all."

Deryn raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'grave danger?'"

"From what I recall, there were a lot more walkers patrolling the streets than there were when Dr. Barlow brought us there. Pretty sure they were making some arrests while we were there, which certainly didn't make our job any easier. The Armenians were apparently being targeted left and right by the government, and the boffin wanted them out of there as quickly as possible. We did what we had to, and it all worked out smoothly. Sort of." He paused for a brief moment, before letting out a melancholic sigh. "There was this beautiful, beautiful girl that was helping us during the mission. Dark hair, olive skin, and these brown eyes that just – I don't even know, looked into your soul. She said that she was part of the revolution a few years back, which I could easily believe. I mean, what else could teach a woman to take on 3 elephant walkers with a single iron golem and come out on top?"

The pieces seemed to come together for Deryn. "Wait a moment," she asked, "was her name Lilit, by chance?"

"You're right!" he replied with a quick nod, "her name was Lilit!" His clarity was quickly followed by confusion. "Wait, how did you know that?"

"Well, remember when I was sent out to break up those kraken nets? It got a little out-of-hand, and one thing led to another…then Alek and I helped her overthrow the sultan."

Initially, Newkirk was uncertain about his friend's truthfulness. "…You're serious?" he asked. All it took was one look from Deryn to confirm it. "God, Dylan, you've had a hand in almost everything lately, haven't you?"

"Aye," she said with a smirk, "and it's not going to stop anytime soon!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Deryn spotted a message lizard crawling out of the framework of the _Leviathan_, scurrying along the ceiling as quick as its stout legs could carry it. "Well," Newkirk added, "I wouldn't get your hopes up about that Lilit woman. From I gather, she," Newkirk grunted uncomfortably as he racked his brain for whatever he intended to say next, "ehm, how do I put it? 'Swings for the same team?'" As if to emphasize his point, he made an underhanded Cricket batting gesture.

That, too, she was already aware of. Unbeknownst to poor Newkirk, Deryn was, in fact, the girl that Lilit had her eyes on since their work in Turkey. Even though she had no idea how one could like their own gender, she couldn't help but feel some sadness for indirectly rejecting her advances. She could only hope that Lilit found someone that could love her back. "Barking spiders, Newkirk, that's a serious thing to say about a lass!"

"Look, I know it sounds a bit off-"

"Midshipman Newkirk!" an authoritative voice shouted in the distance. Newkirk recoiled in shock, nearly dropping the mop once more. Standing in the entranceway to the bridge was the vessel's bosun, Mr. Rigby, an inexhaustible source of assignments and maintenance jobs. "You're wanted outside on the ratlines! Your cleaning duties are on hold until we reach the Austrian border!"

With the speed of a frightened rabbit, Newkirk gave his superior a salute and dashed out towards one of the many side exits in the _Leviathan_. "Lt. Sharp," he said, turning his attention towards the Deryn, "come with me. Captain Hobbes needs to give you your supplies for this mission you're on. Besides, I can't have you going around and distracting middies, now can I?"

"I suppose not, sir," she replied with a wry grin. Despite his rough exterior, Rigby did care immensely about the goodwill of the midshipman he was in charge of. Deryn found out after a month of working for him that he viewed his authoritarianism as a way to keep his subordinates out of trouble and away from the brig. An odd approach, she had to say, but an effective one, as she rose through the ranks with her mastery of handling fabrications and her bravery in the face of danger.

"It's good to have you back, Sharp," Mr. Rigby admitted. "The old airbeast hasn't been quite the same without you setting an example for the other midshipmen. Fitzroy is too brash handling the strafer hawks, and Newkirk needs to brush up more on our beastie signals. We need more men like you around here. I know it isn't any of my business, but I wish I knew why you left the Service in the first place. If you had a problem, it could've been worked out!"

"Oh, believe me, Mr. Rigby, I loved working aboard the Leviathan-"

"-But the longer I stayed around, the more likely I would get court-martialed for being a lass," she wanted to say to him.

"-But the longer I stayed around, the more I was worrying my ma!" she said in actuality. "When Dr. Barlow offered Alek and me positions in the Society, I knew I had to take it; it meant I'd be closer to her than I'd be otherwise!" Of course, it was a bald-faced lie: her ma was confident in her daughter's ability to survive against all odds, but what she really feared was her daughter not growing up to be a proper lady. Even when she introduced her to Alek for the first time, her mother insisted on stuffing her into a bodice and having her refrain from using any of her highland slang. If it were up to her, Deryn would've never enlisted in the first place.

"Interesting," he muttered, "never pegged you as a mother's boy, Sharp. But, if it suits your needs…" Re-opening the entrance to the bridge, Rigby motioned for Deryn to enter. Sidestepping the unfinished mopping job Newkirk left behind, she strode into the bridge, where some more familiar faces were awaiting her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Esoteric24's review brought some excellent questions to my attention. I shall attempt to rectify any confusion in this note.**

**-Due to the way WW1 ended in the Leviathan universe (by my estimations, it lasted 9 months to a year or so, given the dates mentioned starting in the first book and ending with the third), some of the dates and events have been rearranged to suit the timeline. For example, Austria-Hungary became the Republic of German-Austria (forgot that dash, sadly) in 1918 after they were defeated. However, if we are to believe that the war ended in 1915 like Westerfeld said, it would've been formed in 1915 instead. The Empire would've been too weak to continue existing in both universes (as implied in the bonus chapter). This also ties into the "defeat" in Serbia: it took Austria until late 1915 to fully control Serbia and begin their occupation in the real WW1. Even with some generous rounding, that doesn't give the Leviathan-universe Austria enough time to successfully invade Serbia before the war ends. Therefore, I justified their inability to take control of the country as a military defeat.**  
><strong>-Volger's appearance as an adviser came about with the idea of him being a "go-between" for the commanders and the archduke, although the accuracy of that is mixed at best. It was supposed to be implied that he was a reliable tactician and a close friend of the other three in the beginning of ch. 1, hence why they wanted his opinion on the potential conflict.<strong>  
><strong>-And, yes: Alek's German phrase at the end was supposed to be as over-the-top and over-dramatic as it was written. It may have been two years, but the ex-prince is still a helpless romantic. And that's why the fandom loves him.<strong>

**Hopefully, this will clear up any background info that may have confused readers. If I didn't address a point in this forward, it's because it may or may not be an element of the plot later on.**


	5. The Packages

Chapter 5

"The Packages"

**November 30****th****, 1916**

**Aboard the **_**H.M.S. Leviathan**_

As Deryn took her first steps into the pristine, well-maintained office of Captain Hobbes, she felt a nostalgic sense of pride and sadness: pride for the many honors she received serving under his command, and sadness during the solemn day she handed him her resignation papers. She spent the next hour fighting back tears and reassuring her jovial commanding officer that it had nothing to do with him, and that it was a strictly personal matter. It didn't help that she couldn't tell him the truth, but it was either keep her gender a secret or risk shaming herself and her entire family. Even if the reason for being there now was much less serious than before, entering his office still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Ah, Mr. Sharp!" he eagerly greeted her, saluting for effect. "I was just looking for you."

Deryn happily returned the salute. "What do you need, Captain?" Much to her relief, Captain Hobbes hadn't changed much since her departure. His beard was as well-maintained as before, he still had a corncob pipe dangling from his lips everywhere he walked, and he was still good-mannered. In many ways, he was the spitting image of what an officer should be.

"Dr. Barlow wanted me to hand you three the packages you would need for this mission of yours. Still not entirely sure what it is, though. I insisted that I needed to know for any safety hazards, but all she would say is that the_ Leviathan _would only be bringing you to and from Austria." From the bottom-left drawer on his desk, he pulled out an unlabeled brown package, crudely sealed with two pieces of string.

Unsure of what to think, Deryn took the package. "Sorry about all the secrecy. Doctor Barlow's a nice person, but you probably know that she's a bit…"

"Distrustful?" he suggested. Although Deryn would never admit it out loud, she thought that Barlow was much too conspiratorial to be fully trusted. The captain's assessment was fairly accurate. "I learned the hard way, when I found her reading through every flight log of the _Leviathan _since its maiden voyage. Apparently, she had doubts about the competence of the crew, and myself for that matter! My reassurances certainly didn't stop her from looking through every detail of every flight, and reminding her that those were classified documents intended to be read only by officers, she started hanging her authority over me." Casually, he puffed several clouds of tobacco smoke from his pipe. "Life was certainly…different with her around, I must say."

Deryn began shaking the package, listening to the quiet rustling of its contents to guess what they were. Hers was definitely heavier and bulkier than expected, and the rattling of metal on metal suggested that it contained more than her orders. "So, am I supposed to open it here, or…"

"That's entirely up to you. Aleksandar and Count Volger are in the next room, presumably discussing whatever reasons you three are being sent to Austria. You could open it there or in here."

On one hand, Deryn could trust the captain with her life. She greatly respected the man for his stalwart command and coolheadedness in battle, and enjoyed every minute of the time she served under him. On the other hand, she would gain much more insight from learning what Alek and Volger were going to be doing…

"Mind if I join them?" she asked, extending her hand towards the meeting room.

"By all means! I'm quite fine to let you discuss this matter privately." Captain Hobbes sat his pipe down on the table, and added, "However, if any information you receive risks endangering this ship or its crew, you must tell me about it. I understand the need for secrecy, but not at the cost of collateral damage."

Deryn gave the captain an affirmative nod, and stepped into the relatively empty side room. Alek and Volger were sitting nearby and huddled together, muttering to one another over the two pieces of paper laid out in front of them.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she joked, closing the door behind her.

Alek's expression immediately brightened, while Volger remained stoic. She knew that he wasn't overly enthusiastic about Alek's relationship with her, and partially blamed her for Alek's decision to renounce the throne. However, as Deryn knew, there was little he could publicly do about it without hurting his closeness with Alek, as he learned during the flight from Serbia to Japan. He could only sit back and grimace as another commoner interfered with the love life of one of his trusted nobles.

Deryn grabbed the closest chair to Alek, dropping her package onto the table. "I'm guessing you both already figured out what you're supposed to do?" she asked.

"Engineering work, actually," Alek admitted, not quite as thrilled as she imagined he'd be. "For some reason, Dr. Barlow thought it would be best for me to work as an engineer for this. I'll be repairing damaged walkers and assisting in their construction, in addition to clearing out mines and other hazards affecting Austrian infrastructure."

For a boy who knew Stormwalkers inside and out, Alek sounded almost despondent. "What's the matter? I thought you'd love to get your hands dirty with all of that Clanker tech!"

"Normally, yes," he responded, sounding almost uncertain. "I'm eager to get back to mechanical matters again. As fond as I've grown of fabrications, Deryn, nothing can top the thrill of disassembling the legs of a walker and rebuilding them without instructions!" His look returned to his written orders, signed _Barlow _at the bottom. "I was just hoping to contribute more than this…"

Not wanting to let Alek slip into a sense of self-loathing, Deryn manually turned his head towards hers. Smiling, she said, "Aye, but you're still contributing, aren't you?"

"Yes, but-"

"But nothing! You're thinking that you're only doing a small part, but it's still a part nonetheless! You're helping out a greater cause. It's like…like…" Deryn's mind raced to come up with an effective analogy. What was all that talk Alek had given her about moving parts a few weeks back? "Gears!"

For all his knowledge of machinery, Alek was momentarily dumbfounded. "What about gears?" he asked, audibly and visibly confused.

"Gears, you know, in a machine! They all move because of each other!" She internally hoped that her description was accurate. "And even the smallest gear helps the entire machine do its job effectively! Isn't that right?" Deryn playfully punched him in the shoulder for effect. "Then that's the way to look at it! It's better than staying at the Society and doing nothing, right?"

"I suppose…" Alek was holding his head against the table. "However…"

Now, it was Deryn's turn to be confused. "'However?' What's that supposed to mean?"

Alek lifted his head, grinning and unable to stop himself from laughing. "Gears? Machines? I might just make a proper Clanker out of you yet, Deryn!"

"Hmph," she pouted back, "get stuffed. I'm not turning into some sort of grease monkey anytime soon." In spite of her tone, she threw her left arm around Alek, pulling him closer into a sort-of hug. It was almost funny how quickly she could go between wanting to kiss and kick that bum-rag. However, remembering that she was showing affection in front of Alek's disapproving guardian, she broke the hug and got back to unboxing her supplies.

"If you two are through now," Volger said, irritated with their behavior, "I believe it's time for the late arrival to let us know what the doctor has in mind for her."

Carefully, Deryn removed the strings from her package, tearing a hole along its left side to create an opening. Unable to see what exactly was inside, she slipped her free hand into it and grasped around, grabbing ahold of a short wooden handle and pulling it out, dragging a slip of paper with it.

A shortened, black revolver stared back at her, reflecting the fluorescent lights of the glow worms crawling around overhead.

Nervously, Deryn turned her hand around, studying the firearm from the other side. She spun the cylinder, watching each of the five magnum bullets circle around aimlessly in their shells. This wasn't some fake or blank-firing variant; this was an actual snub-nosed revolver. She had no idea how to react, other than, "Oh, clart."

"Well, that's…different…than what I imagined was in there," Alek commented. "But why would Dr. Barlow give you something like that for the mission?"

She always felt a bit uneasy about guns. They were too impersonal, too cold for her liking. With fabricated weapons, they were only as lethal as you made them out to be, and the responsibility for killing was impossible to dodge. Firearms seemed to create a distance between the act of killing and the emotions for her, although she understood the necessity behind them.

"Maybe she explained in the note…" Deryn's eyes glanced at her orders, setting the revolver down beside them. "Mister, or should I say Miss Sharp?" she read aloud. "This may be written evidence of your gender, but it is for your eyes only. I suppose there is no need to mince words. Your assignment may be of the greatest importance, as your knowledge of Darwinistic tendencies and strategies alongside a basic understanding of the Clanker mindset gives you the most qualified prerequisites for it. You will be deployed undercover into the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance's territory and picked up by a certain patrol. From there, you must gain the trust of its leaders, particularly Ms. Gottschalk, and internally sabotage it by all means necessary."

Deryn felt an uneasiness settling into her stomach. "I'm going to be all the way across the country?" she whispered, as if she were questioning Dr. Barlow herself. She was hoping for an intelligence job or something that wouldn't put her in direct conflict with the Austrian Darwinists. With this, everything seemed much more complicated.

"Keep reading, maybe there's some good news later on!" Alek said, as reassuring as he could possibly sound. He was as concerned as Deryn was at this point.

"I have already contacted the A.D.A. through a network of contacts, and they are expecting a Zoological Society agent named Dylan Sharp to arrive and assist their struggle through clandestine actions."

"Clandestine means 'illicit' or 'subversive', in case you were unaware," Volger added.

Ignoring his comment, Deryn pressed on reading. "As long as you remain in-character as a devoted Darwinist heading oversees to 'fight the Clanker oppressors' – quite a few people are doing that, I should note – there should be no foreseeable problems. Just in case anything goes wrong, however, I have enclosed one fully-loaded snub-nosed .357 magnum and a speed-loader. The revolver has had its serial number filed off to ensure that it cannot be traced. Please exercise caution with this weapon: the last thing we need is to create a martyr for the rebels to rally behind. Also, in your package lays a prototype communication system designed for portability."

Remembering that she had not pulled everything out of her package, Deryn removed the filled speed-loader and a metallic, cylindrical device. It appeared to have some sort of bendable antenna on its left side, as well as a singular button in its center accompanied by several exposed wires. Like the hornet launcher she had tested back in the Society, it had two straps on its back, indicating that it could be mounted on one's wrist. "It will allow you to receive transmissions and send any information you glean from being around the A.D.A., as important as battle plans or potential acts of sabotage to minor details such as Ms. Gottschalk's traits and quirks. I hope you remember Morse Code, as it is the only means for you to talk with it. Much more stealthy than a radio, if you ask me. On its underside is the frequency you will use to contact the Austrian Intelligence agents, and it comes with a deploy-able cover to protect it from dust and debris. They respond only to messages beginning with the phrase, 'iron and copper.'"

First illegal handguns and now confusing communication devices. If she thought she was in over her head before…

Below Barlow's signature was a handwritten message. "You have survived without Alek before, and you can do it today. He will be safe and sound as an engineer, so fret not about his safety. You have proven yourself to be a capable insurrectionist in the Ottoman Revolt, and now you can put those skills to use once more. I have faith that you will return safely."

Once she had finished reading, the entire room became dead silent. Deryn was emotionally conflicted and unsure of even what to say. Alek wasn't talking either, probably unable to think of a way to comfort her. Fear crept into her soul, creating a sense of dread within her normally level-head. She had been part of a revolution before…but she was working _with_ the rebels, not going behind their backs and working against them. She would be entering a situation where she had no friends for support, and even the slightest misstep could give her away. All alone, hundreds of miles away from her closest friend and confidant.

Every second seemed to drag on forever, due to the uneasy silence drifting its way through the small meeting room.

Eventually, Volger rapped his knuckle twice on the table, getting Deryn and Alek's attention. "Seeing as how Miss Sharp may be suffering an existential crisis now, I suppose it is in our best interests to motivate her into action."

She couldn't help but feel a wee bit confused. Was Count Volger, of all people, going to actually provide emotional support for her? Even after doing things like nearly ratting her out after the flight from Istanbul?

"Miss Sharp, you have gone into detail with Aleksandar about your previous missions, and have mentioned various aspects of overseas operations you have taken part in. Presumably, you've had experience with temperamental individuals, seeing as how you've come into contact with people such as Tesla, Lilit, or even Alek himself, and come out unscathed. Is that not true?"

"Well…" Deryn couldn't think of a counter to his claim. "You're right. But I don't see how-"

"From the reports I read," Volger said, cutting her off, "during the short time between the failed negotiation and our flight from Austria, this Gottschalk woman is rather emotionally unstable and prone to violence, while also acting cunning and intelligent. However, you have dealt with much worse in the past, and this assignment will have few differences compared to any prior one. The only change is that you'll be indirectly hindering Darwinists, instead of aiding them. As long as you act natural, there should be no complications."

Something about Volger's speech seemed to strike a nerve with Deryn. "This is much, much different than anything I've done before!" she cried in protest. "This is a massive risk for me!"

"And staring down what you thought was a Swiss arms smuggler," he asked, pointing towards Alek, "wasn't a massive risk for you? Even though he was panicking and could have set off a hydrogen-based explosion from a stray bullet?"

"No, no, you're mixing up two completely different things. I'm not ready for something as big as this!" For once, she was actually doubting her abilities to succeed. Perhaps it wasn't the minor details or the distance from her Austrian loyalist "allies" that was bothering her.

"Hm? And directly aiding an armed revolt in an ancient empire wasn't 'big' to you? Nor was engaging two zeppelins within your first month of service, as you apparently described to Alek?" Volger was staring her down, almost as if he were inside her head prying open her secrets. "I believe the real problem here is not that you're about to work undercover, but the fact that you're working against your own people. Am I correct?"

He was much too perceptive for his own good. Whether it was discerning her actual gender weeks before Alek or Barlow could, or figuring out that Barlow could understand his and Alek's "private" conversations in German, he always seemed one thought ahead of the pack. Secretly, Deryn resented him for this.

"Yes, that's why," she replied, pained to admit the truth.

Alek leaned over, glancing at her worriedly. "You're not serious, right Deryn? I mean…I'm not trying to be rude, but…how is it any different from the men you fought before? It's not because they're…"

She didn't want to have to say it. Not to his face, not to the one person who had broken every skewed view of the Germans and Austrians she once held.

As if it were on cue, Volger said, "Darwinists, you mean? Yes, I am positive that Miss Sharp is having second thoughts about harming her own 'people' by doing this job. Moral qualms certainly didn't stop her from fighting against our 'people,' the Clankers, for several years. But, involve harming a group with ideas vaguely similar to hers, and we have an ethical dilemma on our hands!"

Deryn wanted to say something defiant to him, shout at the top of her lungs that she didn't care about what side of the technological struggles people were on. She wanted to deny every accusation he made in front of Alek, show him that she didn't find it easier to kill Clankers than Darwinists. She wanted to prove her tolerance.

But she couldn't.

Alek looked like he was silently pleading with her, almost begging her for Volger to be wrong. "Please, Deryn, tell him that's not true," he quietly said. When she turned her head in shame, his expression went from concern to hurt. "Deryn, please…"

Abruptly, the klaxons stationed around the _Leviathan_ sounded off, releasing a continuous warning screech that got the attention of every living being aboard the airbeast. Deryn, Alek, and Volger involuntarily jumped out of their chairs in shock, as Captain Hobbes audibly did in the other room. She heard loud, clanging footsteps sprint into the room, hurriedly opening the door to his office.

"Captain! Captain!" an unrecognizable voice cried out over the chaotic noise. "We're being intercepted by an Austrian zeppelin! They're flagging us down as we speak!"

Mentally, Deryn began to panic. The last time a Clanker zeppelin pursued the _Leviathan_, they got shot down over the Alps and left to die. Even though the airbeast had been repaired since then, they lacked the armaments necessary for a full-scale confrontation due to their supposedly peaceful escort mission. God forbid, if they get shot down over Germany…

"Calm down, Fitzroy!" the captain said back, probably trying to act as a pillar of support for the crew as always. "Have they said what they want?"

"Well – Newkirk said they intended to search us for contraband, and pick up two Zoological Society agents for the remaining flight to Austria!" From what Deryn could see through the blinds, Fitzroy was badly shaking and barely able to compose himself. Then came a thought: _two_ Society agents? The dossier listed her, Alek, and Volger, didn't it? Did she mishear that, or…

Captain Hobbes began pacing the perimeter of his office, clearly deep in thought. "They can't attack us unprovoked – they have no reason to, and doing so would bring them to war with the Empire. Lord knows they can barely hold out as-is…what sort of setup did their zeppelin have?"

"Um," Fitzroy stuttered, trying to recount the details, "usual look for a wartime one – weapons not visible from the outside, gray, lean and long appearance – just with the new flag painted over it. What should we do?"

Within a short matter of time, Captain Hobbes responded. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but we're going to allow it to run a search and collect whomever they need." The fire returned to the captain's eyes as he added, "Any more than that, and we will retaliate. I will not tolerate any abuse of my crew or my ship."

Fitzroy saluted back, and dashed out of his office, making a beeline for the rigging lines. The three exited the meeting room, gaining the notice of an anxious Captain Hobbes. "You all probably heard about the situation. Take whatever belongings you brought here, and prepare to be moved aboard this – new vessel. If necessary, we will be ready to fight."

One thought was still eating away at Deryn. "Sir, when Fitzroy mentioned the Austrian ship's request, he said three agents, right?"

Tired of the constant ringing, Captain Hobbes pressed the "silence alarms" button installed into his desk. "No, he only mentioned two. Make of that what you will, Mr. Sharp." He motioned over his shoulder, as if to say, "Come with me!"

With no other option, the three followed Captain Hobbes out of his office and into the unknown.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, the first Austrian paratroopers rappelled into the loading bay.<p>

Each one wore a light-gray uniform and matching Stahlhelm, showing various signs of wear and tear, and carrying Mauser carbines. They moved in an almost robotic, uniform manner, moving outward to secure the perimeter and prepare the way for their comrades. Their eyes darted around the room, scanning for any potential threats that may lurk inside the mysterious Darwinist fabrication. For most of the men, this was the first time they had ever seen an airbeast from the inside. Obviously, the idea of searching this…thing, this ungodly creature, put them on edge.

More and more descended from the zeppelin above them, shouting various indiscernible commands in German. Deryn had learned quite a bit of German since she first met Alek, but these men were speaking much too quickly to decipher.

When around a dozen of them had assembled themselves around the edges of the loading bay, Deryn witnessed a peculiar sight: two men, manually attached to the airship with cables, were lowering a man in a wheelchair onto the floor of the _Leviathan_. She couldn't make much of him, except for the circular blue officer's cap atop his head, and an aged royal blue uniform with the single bar of a First Lieutenant.

He attempted to roll himself toward Captain Hobbes only using his left arm, but couldn't get any traction, forcing one of the men on the side to get behind him and do it for him.

"Why isn't he just moving himself with both arms?" Deryn asked no one in particular.

"Hmm," Volger muttered, watching him carefully. "I think the answer may be in plain sight. Look closer at his appearance."

Deryn's eyes returned to the Austrian officer. "What's he talking about?" she wondered. He looked fairly normal: brown hair, partially reddened face, thin moustache -

Then she got a better look at the rest of him. More accurately, what was left of him.

His right sleeve dangled loosely from about two inches past the shoulder, and the coat's arm appeared thin and unoccupied beyond that point. The same went for his right pant leg: completely empty beyond the first few inches.

"He's an amputee?" Alek asked.

"It would appear so. Rather unusual for a man in his mid-twenties, I must say."

The officer in the wheelchair was rolled all the way to Captain Hobbes, giving a customary salute as he stopped. "A pleasure, Lieutenant…"

The Austrian officer sighed. "Jung. Lt. Hermann Jung of the 3rd Infantry Division." His voice was orotund and clear, although not entirely pleasant to listen to. "Why those idiots at high command thought it'd be a great idea to send a _cripple _to an airborne negotiation is beyond me. Probably just want me out of their hair…"

His head lurched back to the private behind him. "Can you believe this crap?" he asked, indifferent to the people in front of him. "Who the hell would want to live aboard a place like this? Everything's probably fleshy and pulsating past here, like some sort of whale's innards. Just like Jonah, except he didn't have to deal with needle-spewing bats!"

Everyone except Volger was momentarily stunned at his blunt rudeness. Captain Hobbes cleared his throat, bringing Jung back to face him. "Ah, yes, the Captain." Meeting his gaze, Jung said, "My men are going to search this 'vessel' top to bottom for any weapons or fabricating materials. You got the go-ahead from high command to arrive, but we just want to be sure that nothing slips through."

"Understandable. They have my consent to do so, as long as they do not interfere with my crew, their quarters, or the fabrications aboard this ship."

Giving a nod of confirmation, Jung shouted, "_Raus, raus_!" to the men in the bay, sending all but two of them marching into the interior of the _Leviathan_.

Deryn felt as though her private life was being intruded by some unknown entity. Who were these people, these Clanker _Dummkopfs_, to sift through her old home like it was some sort of scavenger hunt? Of course they weren't smuggling guns into their clart-sniffing country! What sort of idiots did they think her crew-mates were, anyway?

She quickly realized how negative of an attitude she was taking towards Alek's people and his home, and mentally kicked herself. She had already humiliated herself in front of him as-is, and didn't want to slip into a frame of mind that would make her act that way again.

"Now," Jung said, "The search may seem a bit much, but it gives my men a bit of practice if it ever became necessary. Technically, I'm going against orders, but it's for the best. High command said that Darwinists weren't idiotic enough to smuggle weapons using a fabricated vessel, but I'm not so sure…"

It took all of Deryn's willpower to not punch him in the face.

"Lt. Jung," Hobbes sternly said, "I may have conceded to your requests, but do not think for a second that it gives you the right to openly mock my men and I aboard our vessel."

"Oh, I'm-I am so sorry," he responded, feigning a look of concern, "I had no idea that – Blonsky, was I being _mocking_ to these men?" The private, presumably Blonsky, nodded his head uncertainly. "My deepest apologies. I had no inkling that my innermost thoughts would be so…_devastating _to you all." Drawing a cigarette from his pocket protector, he crudely stuck it in his mouth. "Then again," he continued, igniting it with a metallic lighter handed to him by the private, "I thought I was going to board a ship of _men_. You know, the type with backbones."

Instinctively, Alek held Deryn back from charging Jung and beating him senseless, as she slung an array of incomprehensible curses at him. Jung's normally bitter exterior changed, and he found himself smiling at Deryn's rage.

"I like this one!" he said to the other Austrian private in the bay. "He's got more guts than I expected. I hope he's one of the two we're transporting back. Is he?"

The private removed a piece of brown paper from his pant pocket. "We're supposed to take…Prince Aleksandar of Hohenberg and Wildcount Volger back aboard the _S.M.S. Totenglocke_, _herr Lieutenant_. The other is supposed to be dropped off at some location in No Man's Land."

"Well, he doesn't exactly look like he has German roots, which means…"

Jung went silent, carelessly letting the lit cigarette dangle from his mouth. He turned to Alek and Volger, eyes lowered and mood swung back to negative.

"Aleksandar?" he asked, clearly disturbed. "Volger? Did I hear that right?"

Deryn had finally calmed down, allowing Alek to respond as his friend panted in the corner. "That would be me," he responded, "and Count Volger is beside me. Do you need us to do anything right now?"

"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, dropping his cigarette and angrily stomping it out with his good leg. "Yeah, I have a 'job' for both of you," he told them both, his voice evidently angered, "hold onto those ropes behind me and let the engineers raise you onto the deck. Then, get out of my sight and stay there!" Jung handed the captain a map of the Republic of German-Austria with several circles drawn around a point around the Midwest of the country. "You'll deposit your agent there," he said as he made a circling gesture with his hand, causing Blonsky to wheel him back toward the ropes and away from the four.

While Volger seemed as though he could care less about the Lieutenant's outburst, Alek was visibly more worried. Deryn's concerns were not alleviated by the meeting.

"Alek," she began to say, intending to wish him the best of luck and remind him of her love for him.

"Please, Deryn, just stop." He sounded as heartbroken as she was beginning to feel. "I...I can't hear it now, not after what you said back there. Or, what you didn't say. I'll see you soon enough."

Deryn could only watch as her best friend, the ex-prince whom she loved, walked away and boarded the Clanker airship without a single word.


	6. Out from the Past

Chapter 6

"Out from the Past"

**Aboard the **_**S.M.S. Totenglocke**_

**November 30****th****, 1916**

Even though he was raised a Clanker, Alek's experiences with zeppelins were few and far between. He had seen several in-flight while watching Austrian military drills, and had clashed with a few during his time aboard the _Leviathan_. His only memory of boarding an airship, however, was a vague one from when he was merely five years old. Although the details eluded him, he was positive that his father and mother had been there with him.

Compared to the airbeast he had lived in since his ill-fated retreat into the Alps, the _Totenglocke _was a completely alien environment.

In contrast to the organic and flexible interior membrane of an airbeast, the zeppelin appeared to be a rigid array of girders and rings upholding its white-gray "skin." To his slightly-biased opinion, the environment of their loading bay felt devoid of life and vibrancy. Aside from the irate, wheelchair-bound lieutenant and several Austrian soldiers, he and Count Volger were the only ones he could see on-board. The gray, mechanical interior appeared cold, almost unsettling without the familiar faces of his former crew-mates. He got the feeling that Klopp would have a field day being able to study the inner workings of the airship.

Alek had heard the word "duralumin" tossed around a few times by the Austrians in the _Leviathan_'s cargo bay; presumably, this was some key element of the airship. From the glimpses of the entire vessel that Alek had gotten during his ascent, most of the vessel's space was used to store the hydrogen cells, while the protruding lower section housed passengers and any other necessary materials.

Admittedly, he only knew most of this because Volger was currently describing it to him.

"-And here, Your Serene Highness," Volger said, still clinging onto the habit of referencing Alek's former title, "is the cargo hold. Much like the _Leviathan_'s, although it also has built-in rails for rolling in spare parts. In some instances, entire walkers have been deployed from zeppelins-"

"-Believe me, Volger, I appreciate all of the information you're giving me, but how do you even _know_ all of this? I can't recall you ever being in an airship before!"

Alek could make out the sounds of the remaining Austrians climbing back onto their zeppelin via the rappelling cables still dangling from the edge. As expected, they came up empty-handed, grumbling and gossiping about the sights and sounds they witnessed within the _Leviathan_. He had to wonder how the crew managed to keep the onboard fabrications from assaulting them on-sight.

"Oh, I have never flown in one myself." Volger stopped for a moment, looking at the expansive corridors ahead. A man in a light-blue officer's uniform and eloquent gold-black officer's helmet entered the bay, clicking his heels and saluting them. While Alek hesitantly returned the salute, Volger did so eagerly and shook his hand as well. "However," he continued, turning his head to Alek, "I did meet the man who invented them."

The other officer, presumably the captain of the _Totenglocke_, moved aside to monitor the retrieval of the cables. "You met Count Zeppelin?" Alek asked, almost astonished.

"Of course!" he quickly responded, taking on his mildly condescending "you-should-have-figured-this-out-already" tone. "You forget, Aleksandar, that I have met quite a few important individuals in my lifetime." Volger's annoyance turned to a more humored mood. "It was a rather interesting encounter: I was still in the cavalry at the time, and was given the odd order to patrol a Clanker think-tank along with ten other men. We mostly circled the premises individually, until late into the night this drunken boffin stumbles out, declaring, 'I am Ferdinand Adolf Heinrich August Graf von Zeppelin!' repeatedly and spilling Schnapps all over his suit." Volger pursed his lips, appearing to stop himself from giggling in front of Alek. "So, with no one nearby, I was forced to stop him from getting too far, and began dragging him back into the compound. Then, he begins mumbling details of this new vehicle he was designing, oblivious to the fact that he had left the discussion. It got _very _unusual when-"

"-_For the love of God, stop_," a voice called from behind them. Both he and Volger turned their attention to a visibly frustrated Lt. Jung. "Can I talk? Can I just, you know, finish up the report I'm giving without you stroking your own inflated ego? Honest to God, I can't concentrate with you going _on _and _on _about your secret past that no one cares about!"

Once again, Alek was taken aback by the lieutenant's behavior. What gave him the right to act so rudely to them? In fact, why begrudge them both when they had never even met him before? He had never seen Jung prior to the negotiation aboard the _Leviathan_, and Volger also seemed to be unfamiliar with him. Why, then, was he so adamant about talking down to them?

Rather than return scorn with scorn, Volger merely adjusted his sleeves and said, "Perhaps you forget, lieutenant, that you are speaking with a noble. Formality isn't necessary, but I do expect respect from you."

"And perhaps _you _forget, Volger," Jung said back, hand-signaling the private behind him to roll him closer, "that the idea of 'respecting nobles' only applies to people who have honored their country." He stopped a foot from Volger, meeting his eyes. "So," he added, smirking, "degenerate filth like you don't get or deserve that sort of treatment. Same goes for your errand boy there."

Alek internally fumed at the "errand boy" remark, but Volger didn't seem to be phased by his comments. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he ultimately said. "Please, continue with your report."

Jung glared back at him, almost uncertain how to react to his apparent humility. Even Alek was surprised at his passive response. Considering the tongue-lashings that Volger had given him whenever he fouled up, he expected a harsh rebuttal to the lieutenant's verbal jabs. When it became apparent that neither of the men were going to pursue the conversation further, the private turned him around to face the captain. "Did anything come up during the search?" he asked Jung.

Jung sighed. "I gave the British captain the coordinates he would need to drop that other agent. However, nothing of interest was located during the sweep. They had no intention of double-crossing us, as far as I could tell."

"Hm, as we hoped. You may return to your quarters, Lieutenant. I will handle matters from here."

Jung raised his right stump, as if he were giving a salute, but quickly dropped it and properly saluted with his left arm. The private rolled him out of the cargo hold and into the crew's quarters, with not another word coming from him.

The captain began rubbing his temples irritably. "Damn fool," he muttered to no one in particular, "never knows when to keep his mouth shut." Nervously, he addressed Alek and Volger. "My sincerest apologies. If I had known he would act so foully, I would have greeted you in person down there."

"No harm done, Steiner," Volger said. "Best not for us to make a scene of it, anyway. No need to draw out a pointless argument."

Once again, the wildcount's sphere of influence seemed to be all-encompassing. Now he was on good terms with airship captains Alek had never heard of? He would have to privately discuss with Volger how many military officials he knew.

Then again, there was another burning question on his mind, one that he had been grappling with since the meeting with Deryn-

The flood of emotions hit him like a punch to the stomach. He hadn't realized it on the way up, but he left his best friend behind without a last word or comfort. He may never even see her again! And he had given her the cold shoulder when she was clearly worried as well!

Even if he was still uncomfortable with her comments during the meeting, he prayed to God that she would make it back alive. He _had_ to see her one more time, or he would never forgive himself for shunning her last words to him. He couldn't live with the guilt of it.

"We'll be arriving at the airfield in a few hours," Steiner said. "In the meantime, you two can relax in your assigned quarters. God certainly knows you'll need to rest up for everything up ahead…"

* * *

><p>Back and forth, Alek paced the floor of his and Volger's shared room.<p>

Even though it was even smaller than his Zoological Society quarters and rather cramped, he kept moving up and back restlessly. Every time he reached a wall, he would turn around and repeat the process, marching up and back once more in an unending pace.

His mind was focused on one issue, yet he could find no simple solution to it. No matter how he phrased the question to himself, no matter what factors he included, he was still at a loss for words. He was utterly lost, forced to trudge back and forth to keep his mind thinking about it.

Evidently, the continuous sound of Alek's foot hitting the metal floor was grating on Volger's nerves. He had been attempting to read an old periodical left behind by some other passenger years ago, but the mumbling of Alek combined with his constant pacing pulled his attention away from the written text.

At some indeterminable point, Volger dropped the periodical onto the small sofa he had been attempting to relax on. "Aleksandar, perhaps if you let me know what is bothering you, then I might be able to advise you about it." The wildcount's tone was filled with both concern and annoyance. Although Alek knew that, deep down, Volger did view him as a son, he often masked this emotion with plotting behind his back and "looking out for his interests."

Alek's pacing ground to a halt. "It's just…well, I've been thinking about what you said about Deryn. And how she would show preference to Darwinists than Clankers while in conflict." Any feelings he had of resentment towards her had been suppressed by guilt and heartache. Even if she could be a _Dummkopf_ at times, he still felt an intimate connection with her that had become irreplaceable over the years.

"From what I can tell, you're feeling guilty about not giving her a proper goodbye." Volger glanced over at his face, curiously studying the odd mixture of confusion and anguish he was expressing. "Or, is there more to it than that?"

Alek hesitated, uncertain how to word his mixed emotions. "It's just…well…considering Deryn's perspective in the 'Clanker or Darwinist' issue, is she really wrong to put her own people above ours?"

Volger's eyes averted to the window, where a grand panorama of the trenches dug around Vienna was visible. "Ordinarily? No, as she was raised a British Darwinist and would naturally defend her place of origin from attackers. The Clankers did bomb London and other British cities multiple times, which places them in conflict with her beliefs. If we were simply debating Germany or Britain, this would be an obvious choice." Taking the newspaper back, he began scribbling various shapes and numbers onto it. "However, this case is not quite as justifiable. She has no relation with the Austrian-Darwinists, barring their similar cultural perspectives or support of women's rights, and would find some of their methods of operation to be morally reprehensible. With you serving as a connection to the Austrian loyalists, she should be more motivated to fight for them, even if it indirectly delivers a blow to her country's cause."

"But, still, she's betraying the trust of the people taking her in! Besides, she knows that my granduncle tried to have me killed after my parents' death. Why would she want to fight for them?"

Volger remained silent, continuing to draw what now appeared to be a makeshift defense plan for the area around Vienna. Alek began to walk beside him, attempting to get a closer look at his sketches, but found himself oddly drawn to his facial expression. He seemed…lost, almost unsure of what to say next. Was he holding back something?

"Volger?" Alek asked. "Why would she want to aid the Republic of German-Austria, if she knows that they tried to kill me?"

Irritably, the wildcount put down his periodical. "Because, Your Serene Highness, she has no other choice at this point, does she?"

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere in Southern Austria<strong>

**November 30****th****, 1916**

Deryn felt as lost as the time she had been cut off from her crew in Istanbul.

Mistakenly, she had been too focused on her last conversation with Alek to pay attention to the name of the location she had been dropped off at, or where she was supposed to meet these rebels, or – just about_ anything _important. Everything around her looked the same: due to the prior artillery bombardments around this area, _Graz_ according to the damaged road signs, the infrastructure was in shambles. Bricks and debris lay scattered around the exterior of the city, creating man-made hills and obstacles to traverse in an already hazardous area. She often wished someone would find her, before recanting her views upon hearing what may have been footsteps or falling rubble.

Staring down a long, two-way road, Deryn could make out the wreckage of fallen walkers and destroyed war machines left over from some prior battle. Ash blew around carelessly from the ground, making the already-smoggy city even less visible than before. Almost every building around – whether they appeared to be cramped townhouses, local businesses, or industrial plants – had been marred in some way, with many crumbled homes located around her current hiding spot.

Nervously, she peered her head out from behind the overturned wagon she had been using as cover. No one was around, giving her the confidence she needed to sprint out and run to an alley somewhere in the middle of the corridor. She leaned against the wall, caught her breath-

-Then looked over and saw several mangled, decaying corpses scattered around the alley.

Involuntarily yelping, Deryn covered her mouth and ran into a partially-destroyed bakery on the opposite side of the road. Her breathing was much less steady, her hands uncontrollably shaking. She had been hardened against seeing death during her time in the Air Service, but that was in the air, isolated from the carnage down below. It was easy to forget that death never manifested itself in an attractive manner, nor discerned soldier from civilian. She wondered if there were more bodies lying around the city, left to rot by the retreating Austrian Clankers…

After a minute or so, she had calmed down. Regaining her levelheadedness, she stepped out of the bakery, intending to head for the large clock tower she had seen on the way to here. Perhaps that was where the Austrian Darwinists intended to meet her?

The eerie silence of the city was getting to her. Aside from the rustling of the wind and occasional crunching noise that she thought was movement, there weren't any other sounds being made. Was this place really that dead? Was she alone in this once-great city?

Her questions were answered by the distinctive cocking of lever-action rifle.

Instinctively, she began to reach for her revolver, but instead raised her hands over her head in a surrendering manner. No need to start a gunfight this early into her time in Austria…

"Bitte alle Hände hoch!" a gruff voice called from her right side. "Nicht bewegen!" Deryn's uneven grasp on the German language indicated that he was telling her to put her hands up and not move.

Over to her right were five armed men and women, pointing their various weaponry at Deryn. They appeared to have no common uniforms: aside from a single black band on their right arms, they wore clothing ranging from aged military garb, to protective mining gear, and even winterized overcoats. In a similar manner, their weapons varied as well, from mid-19th century lever-action armaments to bulky rifles that she couldn't recognize.

One woman, wearing a disheveled blouse covered by some sort of white vest and a veil over her mouth and nose, motioned to her comrades and approached Deryn. Much like Deryn, she was wearing trousers, and appeared to be used to moving in men's clothing. Some sort of bird-like creature was perched on her gloved left wrist, making no visible movements as she ran up to Deryn.

Upon a closer look, the woman appeared to be no older than she was. From a hip holster, she drew a Mauser pistol and aimed it square at Deryn's chest with her free hand. "Alright, whoever you are, name and orders now." Her striking, accented voice was definitely not that of an Austrian's. It had a much more familiar tone to Deryn's Scottish ears, like an Irishwoman's or a member of her own minority's. But what was a citizen of the Empire doing around here?

"I'm Dylan Sharp," she curtly responded.

The woman lowered her pistol slowly. "Agent Sharp?" she asked. "From the Zoological Society of London?"

"Aye, that's right. Could you stop pointing your guns at me now?"

Her interrogator waved the other men over, who finally stopped aiming their weapons at Deryn. Behind them, some sort of dog-like creature followed, presumably obscured by them before. It certainly was an odd sight: almost like the two-mouthed, six-legged hydrogen sniffers aboard the _Leviathan_, but turned out…wrong. This fabrication had two heads, one below and to the right of its central head, and nine unusually-angled legs. Some of them appeared malformed and useless, while others had the edgy, spiked appearance of an insect's legs. Only one leg looked absolutely normal, right beside where its tail should have been. Its fur was uneven and anarchistic in design, with darker browns beginning near its head abruptly turning into light yellows near its back alongside some black areas.

"Fitzpatrick," she addressed the falcon-like bird fabrication on her hand, "give message to Anastasia: we have found the British agent, and are bringing him to the rendezvous point near the Schlossberg tunnels. Will wait on your command to meet with additional support. End message." The fabrication made a squawking noise and took off in the direction of the clock tower.

The woman took off her beret and pulled down her veil, revealing a freckled face and a head of short, auburn hair. Her lips were curved into a coy smile. "My name's Moira O'Donovan," she said. "Looks like we'll be working together from now on."


	7. Executive Privilege

Chapter 7

"Executive Privilege"

**Zoological Society of London, British Empire**

**December 7th, 1916**

In an unusual moment for London, it was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining brightly, there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and the numerous puddles left over from the latest storm had finally evaporated away. The normally frigid air had its biting temperatures negated by the warmth of the sun, providing some form of heat in the soon-to-be winter season. Children were gallivanting around in the streets, venders had re-opened their wares, and couples wandered around aimlessly, all keen on enjoying the rare occasion. The only people who wouldn't take advantage of this opportunity were uninformed travelers and the workaholics of the Empire.

"Of course," Dr. Nora Barlow said to no one in particular, "this nice weather had to arrive on the same day as all this paperwork…"

Despite making a significant dent in the unsightly pile since Deryn and Alek's departure, more forms arrived to take the place of their filled-out brothers. Every time she left her office, more stacks of request forms, personal notes, or messages from the Admiralty would be placed onto her desk, often requiring her to respond in triplicate.

Her current strategy was to allot a certain number of paperwork per hour, holding onto a thin hope that the flow of documents would halt at some point, allowing her to finish off the remaining pieces on her own time. At its peak, the stack had reached the size of three of her college physics textbooks, and nearly spilled its contents all over her office from its instability. For the past week, she focused her concentration from directly overseeing the Zoological Society's affairs to trying to eliminate the stack that had built itself up during her pregnancy leave. Instinctively, her free hand went to her relatively slender stomach, remembering the birth of Andrew, her fourth child, three months back.

Her thoughts drifted to Alan, and his tireless quest to locate and preserve Chinese and Islamic works of art. Her husband often spent as much time away from home as she did, often leaving their children in the care of relatives or nannies. She wished she could spend more time with them, or him, but her duties in the Society constantly dragged her away. The last time she had seen Alan was less than two weeks after having Andrew, before his duties as a civil servant and her high-ranking responsibilities in the Society pulled them apart.

She longed to be back with her family, not stuck in a dusty office alone!

"Barking spiders," Bovril said to Barlow's own perspicacious loris, which responded in turn with, "_Mr. _Sharp."

Well, _technically_, she wasn't alone. If one considers "having two creatures of one's own design sitting on your desk and breaking your concentration" to be adequate company, then she wasn't alone.

Dr. Barlow carefully slipped a tightly-sealed envelope from under her loris. "Bovril, I know you miss Alek and Deryn," making sure to softly pronounce the last name and avoid potential detection, "but you know as well as I do that your perspicaciousness would endanger them during the mission. They need to be less noticeable, and your repeating of phrases would only risk drawing attention to them, or giving the wrong impression to the Austrians. It's for the best that you stay with me until they return."

"_If _she returns," her loris said, reciting a snatched comment from her private discussion with the wildcount before Alek and Deryn's entrance.

She didn't want to have to think about the alternative. If, God forbid, Deryn was found out or killed in a crossfire, it would not only stop her efforts to prevent another Darwinist-Clanker war from breaking out, but more importantly rob her of a close ally and friend. Alek would be devastated, and would be inconsolable for weeks. With so many other issues swirling around in her mind, she could not bear the enormous guilt from that outcome. "She will, believe me," Barlow replied, although she couldn't bring herself to look her loris in the eyes and say it.

Her gaze was fixed on the parents and children browsing the zoo beside the Society's headquarters. It was a rather ingenious idea of her grandfather's to build that: show children that fabrications are harmless, useful, and able to be tweaked to suit their needs, and they will gladly support Darwinism when they become of-age. Even if they actually get into the business of fabrication, and figure out that fabs can be quite harmful, unpredictable, and downright ghastly at times, they will have no other lifestyle choice but to support it. After all, British schoolchildren were taught at ten years of age that Clankers may seem friendly and God-fearing like anyone else, but underneath their cheery attitudes they hold a deep-seated desire to render all organic life obsolete. At least, that was what she had been taught growing up.

From what she had gathered from her grandfather's journals and documents, the zoo was built in a time of desperation, when the Society's public image was nearly ruined by birthing a fabrication where the public could see it, with all the blood and amniotic fluid that came about from it. He and his remaining supporters got to work housing their remaining fabrications in a child-friendly and seemingly-harmless zoo, demonstrating the efficiency of fabs in warfare to the Admiralty, and making the creation of fabs a more private affair. The sudden success of these reforms (and their previous efforts at conserving endangered animals) led to the Society receiving massive grants, giving them the funds necessary to build the headquarters she currently resided in.

Tired of procrastinating any longer, Barlow opened up the unmarked manila envelope left by Peter Mitchell earlier in the morning. A single handwritten note dropped out, reading,

"Dr. Barlow,

At four o'clock this afternoon, there will be a council meeting regarding several problems the Society wishes to be resolved. They include:

The planned construction of a walker factory in Northern Scotland,

The potential expansion of the zoo come next year,

And our decision regarding the shipment of fabricating materials and weapons to the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance (Please, for God's sake, don't veto this measure again!)

Everyone will be present, including the Duke of Bedford. I understand that you wish to catch up with as much of your paperwork as possible, but it is crucial that you take part in this meeting. We will need a full council to legitimately vote on these issues.

-P. Mitchell

P.S. - Tell the kraut (you know who I am referring to) that his access to the fabricated weapons program will be suspended unless he cleans up his mess in the firing range."

"Ah, as expected," she said to herself, tossing both the envelope and its contents into an overfilled garbage bin beside her desk. "It would appear that my actions have garnered quite the negative response. Although I understand why some of the councilmen desire to see Austria reshaped in their image, they may not be aware of the possible crises that may erupt from such a shift in the balance of power."

Both of the lorises were focused on her, no doubt attempting to memorize and understand her statement. Barlow couldn't help but smile; it had been two years after their hatching, and yet their mental processes still fascinated her. "What are your thoughts?" she curiously asked them.

"You will hear of war and rumors of war," Bovril recited, "but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come."

It was a rather uncommon moment to hear a full sentence from them. While they typically recited snippets of conversations, only in cases of relevance would they say the entire piece. It fit the question clearly, and it wasn't just an oft-repeated piece of Scottish slang or Austrian cursing. "An interesting observation, Bovril! I suppose the resentment built between the two sides will not be released without bloodshed. How long do you expect this conflict to last?"

However, he ignored the doctor's question, instead joining her loris in an attempt to tear open a random letter. "And, if I may probe further," she questioned further, aware of her gesture's futility, "where in the world did you hear a passage from Matthew? I've read more than a few novels in front of you, but the gospels were never among them."

In one of those odd coincidences, one of her questions was answered by two figures walking into her office: her thylacine, Tazza, and Dr. Schmidt, the latter of whom was holding the former on a leash. Tazza enthusiastically ran to his master, and began nuzzling its nose against her extended hand.

"All done walking Tazza, Dr. Barlow," Schmidt informed her. "He wasn't much trouble at all, just had to keep him away from – hey, you have two of those things on your desk! I didn't know you owned both precarious lorises!"

"Perspicacious," her loris corrected, snickering along with Bovril.

Dr. Barlow happily began petting Tazza, as she made a habit of whenever he was finished a walk. "Technically, both are mine, but one has bonded with Aleksandar and Deryn. Seeing as how they develop faster when around their 'parents,' or whatever you might call them, I usually allow them to take care of it."

"…Huh. So, what do they even do, anyway?" Schmidt rubbed the two ridges between his eyes and his nose, his head dropping slightly and his cheeks tightening to suppress a yawn. Dr. Barlow's attention was driven to the dark circles underneath his eyes.

"The question you should be asking, doctor, is what they are _unable_ to do. They can observe details that often escape our view, learn numerous subjects merely through memorizing snippets of data…in a sense, they are the perfect advisors for men and women in power." She stepped over Tazza, grabbing ahold of the pulley on her curtains and allowing more natural light in. Schmidt winced, and shielded his tired eyes from the sudden burst of sunlight. "Just to give you some warning, my compatriots intend to suspend your research on fabricated weaponry unless you clean up the aftermath of your test with Mr. Sharp."

Instead of a perky and typical, "right away, Dr. Barlow!" or "consider it done," Schmidt groaned. "They're still hung-up on that? What are they worried about; I killed all of the bees! I just had to burn a bit of the firing range to do it! Sure, maybe I did char the vast majority of the equipment there while using an unstable fabricated flamethrower. But, either way, I did my job!"

"Yes, but some of us-" she accentuated her coming point by dumping five of those obnoxious chain letters into the bin, "-have much more paperwork to do then you right now. Therefore, it's only just that you file the requisition forms for the sandbags, collapsible tables, and wooden cutouts."

"Fine, I'll get to it. But, before I go, are they going to let me vote this time?"

"Unfortunately," Dr. Barlow said, simultaneously attempting to keep Tazza's head out of her garbage bin, "you will only be an observing member until a majority of the council trusts you, and votes to grant you that privilege."

Schmidt looked back, unease almost emanating from him, as if he were preparing to say something. However, after a minute of shuffling his feet nervously, his thoughts never materialized, and left Dr. Barlow's office without a word. It was clear that something was troubling him, possibly relating to his poor reception into the Society.

"Poor fool," Bovril commented to Dr. Barlow and his loris counterpart.

"I concur," she said back. "Perhaps I should have a talk with him after the meeting…"

The two lorises scurried around her desk, making an even greater mess of the unorganized documents she was supposed to look over. Rather than reorganize it once more, she impatiently grabbed ahold of them, placing both on her shoulders for easier travel. "Come along, Tazza," she commanded her loyal thylacine, and the four headed off to the Council.

* * *

><p>The Zoological Society Council was as it always was: a roundtable of fourteen men and one woman, seated in delicately-carved wooden chairs and feeling like the world was theirs to mold, if only for the meeting's duration. The Duke of Bedford, who also possessed the honorary title of president, sat in the largest and most "regal" of the chairs, while Dr. Barlow and Peter Mitchell flanked his left and right side, respectively. Peter's job was to write and record the minutes of each meeting, while Dr. Barlow presided over decisions related to international affairs. Fitting with his title, the Duke of Bedford was there as a figurehead, someone with no actual power in the Society but the good looks and clear voice to emulate that to the public.<p>

Positioned in front of every person was an ashtray and a china plate, intended to dispose of waste from both smoked tobacco and chewing tobacco.

"Speaking of tobacco," Dr. Barlow muttered to her lorises, "we really need to open a window soon." An aura of smoke seemed to hang over the room, causing her and a few other councilmen to experience the occasional coughing fit. Although this nicotine-laced fog wasn't thick enough to obscure one's view, it had grayed out the room's _feng shui_, as she had taken to calling decorating after her husband's visit to China.

On her right, Peter counted off each member, making sure to not include Schmidt. "Thirteen…fourteen…fifteen. I believe that's everyone. Shall we begin, your grace?"

"Certainly, Sir Mitchell. But, first…" The Duke coughed away a stray cloud of smoke, then leaned back and opened the window behind him, allowing some fresh oxygen to dilute the stale air of the room. "Much better," he said, displaying his usual, confident smile.

"Gentlemen," he began, aware of Dr. Barlow's presence but not willing to draw unnecessary attention to her, "this past year has been marked by the unparalleled growth of the Zoological Society. Since the defeat of the Clankers and the Central Powers, we have expanded this glorious organization and pursued new frontiers of science. Last month alone, we fulfilled over two dozen contracts with the British Empire and other Darwinist powers, and have sent our agents to every region of the globe to promote our interests. Most importantly, during this time of unending development, we have kept true to our humble roots, and installed a monument of the great Darwin himself in front of our headquarters. To say we have succeeded in surpassing the Clankers' technology is an understatement; we have raised the bar so high that it will take them decades to catch up with us!"

Several zealous councilmen clapped vigorously at the Duke's opening. Barlow remained expressionless, although she did offer a slow round of applause for his bold remarks. Bovril and her loris fidgeted around on her shoulders, no doubt running their mental algorithms to understand what was said. The weight on her shoulders reminded her of an odd fact: nearly everyone in the room had some sort of self-made fabrication with them, excluding the two leading members to her right.

When the clapping had ceased, the Duke cleared his throat and continued. "However, this newfound power comes with a responsibility to the world, as there is still much unrest to combat. It is in our duty as Britishmen to exert our influence to improve states around the globe."

"Take up the white man's burden," Dr. Barlow mused.

"As it is with every month, we will vote on our stances on several key issues plaguing England, Europe, and the world as a whole. The first issue, while minor, is a threat to our control over agricultural production and tool manufacturing on the Isles. I am, of course, referring to the planned walker factory in Scotland."

She could hear the grunts and boos of the councilmen, as well as some cries of, "Damn Clankers!" No doubt, Schmidt was shifting around uncomfortably with every indirect insult.

"However, this must be handled delicately. By attempting to completely push all Clanker influence out of Scotland, we risk creating sympathy for them or causing them to strike in return. Therefore, I would like to hear your suggestions as to how we cope with the dilemma."

Dr. Barlow vaguely wondered how the Council would react to her purchase of the wrist communicator from the Clanker black market two weeks back. No doubt they would call her a traitor, and vote to bar her from further meetings until she redeemed herself in their eyes. With her support of a Clanker regime in Europe and now her curiosity regarding Clanker communication methods, she got the feeling that her grandfather would be rolling in his grave.

"We could always deport them!" an indistinguishable voice shouted from the opposite side of the table. An uproar of laughter and sympathy emerged from most of the councilmen, engulfing the meeting for an entire minute before quieting down.

"Now, now," said the Duke of Bedford, "the last thing we need is to eliminate an influential minority. The Fokker Company invested a great deal of capital in this venture, and I would imagine that would result in a dozen lawsuits pushed in our direction. Even with our good standing with the Crown, they would not look at us favorably for squandering the rights of others. Any other thoughts?"

Dr. Jafari (or, as she knew him, "the bearded fellow with the bird"), rose his hand. "We could always price our fabrication contracts lower than their walkers cost," he suggested. "That is, if we aren't going to share the market with them."

The Duke paused, probably considering the consequences and benefits of that sort of action. "Could we sustain that sort of pricing long enough to run them out of business and not hurt our integrity in the process?"

Peter, who had been scribbling down monetary calculations on his stationery, slid his notes over to the Duke. "If we hold our prices steadily low for four months or so," he told him, "then Fokker may have to pull out and look to build elsewhere. They've been hurting since the Great War ended in our favor, and lack the investments and stability to compete with us. We should not discount the idea of them trying to stick around longer, but we can afford to have losses. The same does not go for them."

The Duke handed Peter's notes back, evidently pleased by their new course of action. "A show of hands for the implementation of Dr. Jafari's idea?" he asked. Almost everyone raised their hands in support, with only one member abstaining.

"Well then, it seems that we will aggressively market our low-priced fabs to the Scottish farmers and transportation managers. Excellent suggestion, doctor!" His cheery disposition dropped, as any news regarding their next topic would do to a man. "Now, onto the second matter..."

"This isn't as much of a voting matter as it is an update on our progress. Keeping with our hearts and minds campaign, the London Zoo will continue to be operated by the Society. Plans for expansion are going along smoothly, and the additions of the new tigeresque and 'Darwinism around the world' exhibits will be completed by March of next year. Financially, we will be able to afford these additions with plenty of reserve funding to spare. The revenue from the zoo should be more than enough to compensate for any losses we experience from undercharging for fabrications in Scotland."

"And now, the hard part," Dr. Barlow whispered to Tazza.

Content with the air quality, or perhaps keeping the final subject matter in mind, the Duke closed the window. "Our final topic for this meeting will be the Austrian Civil War. We all know the situation there: Darwinists are being oppressed there by a bigoted Clanker regime, and the two sides have come to blows. The country has been divided nearly in half by the conflict, and the rebels have gained significant ground. Their leader, Ms. Anastasia Gottschalk, has contacted us about potentially sending aid over to them, whether it would be weaponry, or medical supplies, or even food and potable water."

"It is our right as fellow Darwinists to aid them in any way we can. I propose that, beginning next year, we work with the Swiss arms smugglers to send supply crates their way. If the Republic of German-Austria is toppled and replaced by a Darwinist government, only Germany will be able to pose a threat to us in the future. Imagine: a continent's economy and culture composed entirely of Darwinistic features!"

While most of the councilmen cheered, Dr. Barlow felt a knot in her stomach. The idea of wiping out an entire way of life and holding a monopoly over Europe didn't sit well with her, especially now that she personally knew Clankers and understood that they didn't have to be enemies. Schmidt was still silent, but she had a feeling that the Duke's words were not received favorably by him.

"All in favor of this measure, raise your hands!"

Everyone except for Dr. Barlow held their hands in the air, showing just how outnumbered her opinion truly was. The group lowered their votes, with Peter proudly marking the tally of fourteen to one. The Duke seemed pleased at the response. "Well, if no one objects-"

"-I veto this measure," Dr. Barlow declared to the council. In that instant, cries of protest and indignation shot out from every area of the room.

"This is ridiculous!" one voice shouted from the ruckus. "What gives you the right to shut down the voices of fifteen other people?"

"As a Darwin, I have the right to veto decisions that could be considered detrimental to our progress," she reminded them. This ace-in-the-hole was established by Charles Darwin in his last days to ensure that his descendants would never be robbed of their influence on his organization. Thanks to some vague wording and guilt-tripping, it was passed in an 8-7 vote. Due to an oversight in the writing of the passage, there was no way to overrule a veto, giving any future Darwins even more influence than Charles had intended.

"The Council acknowledges your veto," the Duke reluctantly said. "And, with that, we will undercut our prices in Scotland to weaken walker sales there, and continue about our business for expansion. No action will be taken regarding Austria, for now." He got out of his chair, carefully pushing back into place. "The meeting has concluded, and you all are dismissed."

On the way out, many members of the Council grumbled and complained about Dr. Barlow's veto power. Trying to feign a lack of surprise as always, she brushed any tobacco dust off her coat, and shook her bowler hat out once for good measure. She had accomplished what she needed to, and bought Deryn and Alek more time. By all means, she should feel good about herself, but felt concerned about the growing resentment of her role in the Council.

Schmidt was still there, sitting silently with his head hung low. The rampant jingoism from her peers had clearly hit closer to home than she had anticipated, but she believed that there was more to his unkempt appearance and visible lack of sleep than that. Casually, she tapped her protégé on the shoulder to get his attention.

"You and I need to talk," she told him, starting to walk out the door. With a nod, he got out of his chair and followed in her footsteps.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: A few footnotes to add:**

**-Bovril's "rumors of war" quote comes from ****the Gospel of Matthew; specifically, chapter 24 and verse 6.**** Although it was added strictly for flavor in this chapter, it may play a role sometime later in the story. Emphasis on "might," I should note.**

**-The Fokker Company was a real-life corporation based in Germany that constructed airplanes and other vehicles. They also made a prototype minigun for the German Army that allegedly could fire a whopping 7200 (!) rounds per minute, though it never made it into mass production.**

**-The Duke of Bedford, Herbrand Russell, really was the head of the Zoological Society during the events of the **_**Leviathan**_** trilogy. Peter Mitchell, who has a brief role in **_**Goliath**_**, was also the Society's secretary.**

**-According to the information I've looked up both in print and on the internet shows no indication of a vetoing process in the Zoological Society of London. Then again, they were not an intelligence agency in real life, either, so I figured it was believable enough to add.**


	8. Field Test

Chapter 8

"Field Test"

**Graz, Austria**

**November 30th, 1916**

"Fitzpatrick will be back any moment now. He isn't the foostering type, I promise."

That was the fourth time Moira had given Deryn that same claim, despite their wait well approaching around two hours. They, along with the other rebels, had been camped out near a destroyed warehouse of some sort, awaiting some idea as to what Gottschalk wanted with Deryn. She didn't know what was taking so long, or why they didn't just meet with her in person, or even what "foostering" meant.

"Are you sure it didn't get lost?" Deryn asked, drawing on her own unfortunate experience with a Huxley ascender. "Beasties can be a bit tricky when the weather gets rough."

"No, he didn't get lost, I'm sure of it. Fitzpatrick probably just had to wait for her to have time to give a message back, or something like that."

The genders of fabrications was a tricky business. Most were created in a "neuter" state to prevent pregnancies that would otherwise hamper their efficiency. This wasn't a particularly well-known fact for the average person, and the presence of assigned genders for certain "breeder" fabs led to even more confusion.

All this thinking about fabrications was making her a bit curious. She knew that the Austrian Darwinists made unique fabs for their insurgency, but had no idea what purposes they served. "So, what sort of beastie is it, anyway? A bigger carrier pigeon or something?"

"_He_," Moira responded, "is a chickenhawk. It's sort of like one of those message lizards, but they're able to fly and hold onto statements longer. Not sure why they're given that name, though, seeing as how they aren't made from chicken or hawk life chains."

Deryn never quite understood why some people gave their fabs names. The whole point of one as to be used as a tool by their masters, and nothing more. Naming one would be like giving a name to a machine gun, or a shovel, or something like that.

Although, with the way she and Alek handled Bovril, she didn't really have room to talk.

Instantly, the memory of Alek leaving her behind aboard the _Leviathan_ came back, filling her with a mix of resentment and sorrow. It wasn't her fault that she found Clankers to be easier targets than Darwinists, especially since she was raised a Darwinist! How would Alek have liked it if he had to fight his own people –

"Oh, right," she muttered. He _had _fought against Germans and Austrians for much of these past two years, and practically switched sides to try to end the war. She began to wonder how he was holding up, surrounded by people who had tried to hunt him down before.

"Hm? What'd you say, Dylan?" Apparently, her muttering hadn't been very quiet.

"Sorry!" she said back, trying to make herself seem less glum than she felt. "I said, 'oh, right!'" Moira's unveiled face still showed some confusion, forcing her to think on her feet to explain herself. "I remember learning about those in the…debriefings that I went to. But, aren't you not supposed to name beasties like that one? Doesn't it make them want to work with other people less?"

Unknowingly, she had struck a nerve with Moira, who now seemed more frustrated with her attitude than confused. "No, it doesn't – and I'd really appreciate it if you'd quit talking about Fitzpatrick like he's some brainless animal! He's my friend!"

"Clart, sorry about that," Deryn said, hoping to not frustrate her any further. The last thing she needed was to get on the bad side of her new "allies" this early. "I wasn't trying to put him down, it's just a wee bit of a habit."

At this, she seemed to relent a bit. "It's fine. You're probably just used to the way the Society handles beasties, I guess. They have different methods than ours." One of the rebels got her attention, and pointed a blurry figure in the distant, hazy sky. "He's back," Moira announced to the other rebels, who gathered around her and Deryn in anticipation.

Deryn could make out the eagle-esque shape of what she assumed was Fitzpatrick, but it appeared to be carrying some bulky object in its talons. It couldn't have been that heavy if it was flying without issue, but it seemed unusually-shaped for a package. The closer it drew, the more detail she could see, and the object looked more and more organic with each flap of the chickenhawk's wings. It almost seemed like it was trying to move, at least from her point of view.

When he was directly overhead, Fitzpatrick unexpectedly let go of his cargo, dropping it into the arms of Deryn. She briefly recoiled in shock at the black and red _thing_ squirming around in her grasp, but regained her nerve and finally took a closer look at it.

Whatever it was, it had the features of an insect, and had a dark grey body with a red-ringed neck. Its eight thin legs gripped onto her arms, balancing itself and giving her a view of its narrow mouth. Near its compound eyes were two large pincers, although they looked too dull to be of any use in fighting. Oddly enough, its torso seemed to glow a yellowish light at random times. Even stranger was its size, which probably exceeded a foot long and was nearly half a foot wide.

"Really, Fitzpatrick? Was it necessary to scare the living daylights out of Dylan?" Moira teasingly asked him. Fitzpatrick perched himself onto Moira's gloved hand. "Alright, let's see what's next. Replay last message."

The chickenhawk released a couple of cries, steadied itself, and began speaking. "Moira," it said in a raspy, feminine voice, "this is Anastasia Gottschalk. I will be happy to receive Agent Sharp, as soon as he proves his worth and trustworthiness to our cause. You know how desperate the Clankers are to slip one of their spies into our ranks…"

Deryn's stomach clenched at her last comment. Had she already been figured out this early? Was Gottschalk more of a sneaky-boots than she already seemed?

"This is also why I had your friend carry one of the Disruptors from the latest batch. I need to be sure they'll work as well as the previously hatched ones, and I don't want to risk botching up an assault with faulty weapons."

The fab in Deryn's arms – the "Disruptor", or whatever she called it – chirped and hummed with contentment. "It looks pretty harmless to me," Deryn thought. "This is supposed to be some sort of weapon?"

"There are two walkers that have been patrolling around your area. Not much of a serious threat, just two of the Tyrant class. Nonetheless, I can't have them stomping around and possibly finding one of our safehouses. I need your team to disable or destroy them both."

Well, that explained the occasional loud "bang" in the distance. She had just chalked it up to gunfire or explosions, not some walker patrol. Internally, she was relieved that they hadn't found her; even with her connection with the Austrian loyalists and wrist communicator, wearing a British Air Service in the middle of a former battleground would be more than a bit suspicious. She regretted wearing the uniform now, especially since its clean, white colors stood out compared to the dulled coloring of the rebels' clothes. She was practically a walking target!

"Once that's done, you can escort him to our base of operations in Innsbruck, where I'll meet him in person and discuss-"

"Anastasia," another voice cut in, "here are the photographs of the airfield you wanted." The other person was male, with a low accent that sounded similar to Tesla's. "Oh, sorry, wasn't aware you were recording something. Should I come back later?"

"Yes, please, Adrian. Not now. Just – one moment." Some movement could be heard in the background, and Gottschalk's voice dropped to a whisper. Even when Deryn put her ear closer to Fitzpatrick, she couldn't hear anything distinct from it. Snippets of this other person's voice were also audible, but once again were too quiet to be heard.

"-And, like I said…" Gottschalk's voice regained its prior volume, although she sounded a bit further away from the chickenhawk than before. "…This has to be done quietly. No witnesses whatsoever, do you understand?"

The door closed, or at least sounded as if it had been closed. "As I said, once your objectives are complete, we will discuss your role in the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance in person. Do not disappoint me." With that, the recording stopped.

The entire mission seemed unclear to Deryn. They had never been given a clear idea of where these walkers were, only that they were "in their area." How did she expect six people and two small beasties to take down two walkers? Everything she knew about Clanker vehicles was that they were heavily-armored, and none of them seemed to have any heavy weapons or explosives meant to combat them. What was Gottschalk thinking?

In contrast to Deryn's uncertain thoughts, Moira looked fairly confident about the recording's objectives. "Seems simple enough," she said, "we'll just get to higher ground and wait for them to pass by. Then…" she clapped her hands together, "we hit 'em where they don't expect it!"

Deryn still wasn't convinced. "How are we supposed to destroy one walker, let alone two? If they can shrug off mortars and grenades, how can we do anything to them with only a few rifles and two beasties?"

Moira directed the other rebels with her hands, moving them to several different spots around the street. "You're about to find out," she said, displaying her coy smile again before pulling up her veil. She impatiently threw a dusty cloak off the ground over Deryn's shoulder. "Put this on; it'll make you stand out a lot less. Follow me up the ladder inside the warehouse. It'll be a better vantage point than standing around here like a couple of dossers."

With no other choice, Deryn put her trust in Moira and ran after her, carrying the insectesque creature in her arms.

* * *

><p>Deryn had spent an hour laying prone atop the warehouse's rusty, partially-destroyed roof before any sight of the two walkers.<p>

Across the street, on the third floor of some sort of tenement, the larger Russian-looking rebel began giving hand signals to her and Moira, roughly saying, "Walker approach position. Five minutes walking distance. Not aware of us."

"So, about these walkers…" Deryn asked.

"What about them?"

"Well, you know I've fought quite a few of them, and seen even more. But I've never heard of the 'Tyrant class' kind until now. What're they like?"

Moira lowered her binoculars, blinking a few times to get rid of the dryness in her eyes. "From what Lady Gottschalk told me, the Tyrant Walker was the cheaper, easier to build alternative to the Cyklop Stormwalker. I think they're faster and easier to control, but lightly-armed, not well-armored, or useful against heavier beasties." She quickly went back to looking through the binoculars, scanning for any signs of the incoming patrol. "When the A.D.A. was just a labor union, their strikes really messed with the production of Stormwalkers, forcing the Austrian government to build these while trying to work out their problems with the Darwinists. By the time the war rolled around, they were forced to deploy more of them than the heavier, more powerful Stormwalkers, which caused a whole world of issues when they tried to invade Serbia."

Moira's explanation reminded her of the time Alek had used his Stormwalker to defend the Leviathan and its crew from a German assault team back in the Alps. If what she said was true, then he was pretty lucky to have gotten his hands on one. Then again, he was a barking prince, so it probably wasn't as hard to get.

"Get ready, Dylan!" Moira hissed. "They're on their way!"

True to her word, the staccato clanking noise of a moving walker became louder and louder, advancing quicker than she remembered the German or Ottoman models could. Slowly, she peaked her head over the roof to get a glimpse of the two.

The two Tyrant Walkers looked sleek and mobile, in contrast to the massive, bulky appearance shared by even the smallest of Clanker vehicles. They had octagonal hulls with small window slits on each side, held up by four legs that were connected to the vehicles' undersides. Four MG08 Spandau's protruded from the lower curves of the hull, each spaced out evenly with one side in-between. On its partially-curved top, multiple exhaust pipes spewed out white steam with every step, and an escape hatch in the center remained sealed shut. Both had a dark-gray color scheme, similar to the uniforms of the Austrians that had boarded the _Leviathan_.

"Moira, they're moving fast!" she said. Beside her, the insect fab resumed its chirping at the sound of the Tyrants walking.

"I know, I know," Moira said back. "Quickly, get ahold of the Disruptor and face him towards the front Walker!" She did as she was told. "Now, reach into its mouth and pull its tongue out."

"Wait, what?"

"Do it! We're running out of time!"

Reluctantly, Deryn moved her left hand between the beastie's pincers, and forced her thumb and index finger into its mouth. Feeling around the sticky saliva, she pulled a long, leathery muscle that she assumed was its tongue. Its chirps became much more rapid, and it seemed to be crying out in protest now.

"Okay, good. Now, move it underneath its body, loop it around your finger, and pull back hard. Be sure to take aim first, or we'll lose the element of surprise!"

Having done everything Moira said to prepare, Deryn pointed its mouth at the front walker, pulled its tongue back sharply-

-And a bolt of electricity shot out from within the fab, striking the Tyrant Walker and momentarily stunning it. It lost its footing, nearly tipping over from the sudden disruption and colliding with the walker in back.

"Blisters!" she cried. She had never seen any sort of beastie pull off a stunt like that, even during her time at the Zoological Society.

"Come on, Dylan, keep firing at them! They're going to figure out where we are!"

Wasting no time, Deryn aimed at the back walker and released another bolt, briefly disabling it and causing it to miss a step with its side feet. It pushed its front foot forward, trying to hold steady with the front and back legs, until another bolt from Deryn caused it to push too far and overload its knee pressure. With a metallic groan, it fell to the ground, damaging the side of its hull in addition to its remaining legs.

The other Tyrant became aware of the situation, and its four machine guns opened fire on her, Moira, and some of the other nearby buildings. Deryn ducked down and rolled to the left, as the heavy-caliber MG rounds punched through the walls and the roof as though they were made of cardboard. Moira crawled backwards, trying to hold onto Fitzpatrick and her binoculars at the same time.

When she had gotten far enough from her original spot, Deyrn quickly lurched out of her blind spot and electrocuted the remaining walker several times. However, the bursts from the machine guns continued, and moved to target her new position.

She felt a hand grab ahold of her leg, and was pulled further back towards the center of the roof. Turning to face Moira, she yelled, "What am I supposed to do? It's not moving!"

"Just keep firing!" Moira shouted over the gunfire. "Try to short out its electrikals! You should be able to knock it out of commission that way!"

The Tyrant stomped closer and closer to their position, and Deryn leaned off the edge once more. This time, it was out of sight, except for the imprints from its metallic feet, which had created a trail alongside the road, onto the rubble where they had been hiding…and directly into the warehouse.

"Moira," she whispered, "it's underneath us."

The quad-MG's of the Tyrant erupted in another cacophony of automatic gunfire, puncturing the rusty sheet metal of the roof directly and tearing it apart in search of them. From a small hole, Deryn could see that the walker had tilted its hull towards the ceiling, spraying its front and side guns at the unseen intruders.

Several bullets shot close to her position, making her scramble away and crawl to the right side with Moira and Fitzpatrick.

"Dylan!" Moira shouted, pulling up a loose sheet from the roof, "we're running out of time! Try shooting through this gap!"

She carefully shoved the beastie through, now aiming for the Spandau MG on the right side. With a hard squeeze, she shot two bolts at it, igniting the ammunition box on its left side. An explosion rocked the Tyrant, blowing a moderately-sized hole in the walker's hull. Inside, several Austrian gunners pulled their injured comrade from the opening. With the same ruthless efficiency they had shown to her, Deryn hit two of them with the Disruptor's electricity, dropping them to the ground while the third ran out of sight.

The Tyrant began moving once more, this time towards the warehouse's exit. "You're not getting away that easily!" she cried, shocking the other exposed machine guns and damaging the walker's hull even further. Badly damaged and partially unbalanced from the prior missteps, the Tyrant began to limp as fast as it could to cover, before a well-placed bolt overturned onto the concrete with a satisfying "thud".

With both walkers out of commission, it was over. The rebels came out of hiding, pulling any surviving Austrians out of the wreckage and dragging them onto their feet. Moira breathed a sigh of relief and patted Deryn on the shoulder, clearly happy to have survived the ordeal.

"Looks like I owe you one, Dylan," she said.

Deryn weakly laughed, her heart still racing from the intensity of the firefight. "I'm guessing that makes me an official member of the Austrian Darwinists?"

"If that doesn't make you one of us, nothing will." She and Moira carefully treaded along the edges of the roof, avoiding its unstable and bullet-ridden center. "Let's climb back down and help round up these prisoners. Then, you can finally meet Lady Gottschalk herself!"

Before descending back to the ground, Deryn loosened her finger out from the beastie's tongue and pushed it back into its mouth. At this point, she was quite eager to meet the rebels' leader, even if she was supposed to be her enemy. She had seen the photos, but it was easier to put a face to a name in-person.

On the last rung, Deryn's wrist bumped into the ladder's protective enclosure, creating a metallic pang that reverberated through the structure. Moira paid it no attention to it as she walked towards the wreckage, but it brought Deryn's thoughts back to an important matter: she had thought of no explanation or justification for the Clanker communicator she would need to talk with the Austrian loyalists. What was going to happen if someone asked her about it?

"Get a move on, Dylan! We're going to have a long walk ahead of us, and I don't want to dilly-dally any more than necessary!"

She'd be able to lie her way out of the problem. After all, she had spent a year fooling the Admiralty and another fooling most of the Zoological Society into thinking she was a boy. How hard could it be to act like a Darwinist, especially when she was usually one to begin with?


	9. Timely Arrival

Chapter 9

"Timely Arrival"

**Innsbruck, Southern Austria**

**December 2nd, 1916**

It took two days, multiple breaks, and a drop-off of the surviving prisoners at some sort of prison camp, but Deryn had finally reached the last leg of her journey. In the distance, flanked by a towering mountain, stood Innsbruck. Moira and the other rebels definitely had their spirits brightened by the sight, with a few whoops and hollers being thrown around by her exhausted group. Some even dropped their gear on the ground, just to take a breather.

"See, Dylan? I told you it wouldn't be that much longer!" While everyone else had stopped, Moira carefully sat Fitzpatrick on the ground and stretched her legs. "Just a few more miles, then we can get some rest!'

She never really doubted that they would make it to Innsbruck, but she had wished the trip had been a wee bit shorter. Training to be in the British Air Services prepared her for a lot of things, but hiking long distances over muddy hills wasn't one of them. "Good, my barking legs are killing me!"

Speaking of legs, Deryn couldn't help but notice that Moira was stretching hers awfully close to her. Figuring it would be better to give her some room, she backed up to that dog-like fabrication they had been carting around.

"So, what'd you say this was again?" she asked Moira, remembering that at some point she probably had brought this up.

Now noticing Deryn's distance, she got back on her feet and coaxed Fitzpatrick onto her glove. "We call their type chimeras. Our docs say that around half a dozen different life strands go into their creation, but I only know about the hunting dog strands. God only knows what else she's made of." She extended her free hand to the two-headed beastie, who happily began licking it. "One thing's for sure: they don't go down easily. Seriously, I've seen them take a dozen rifle rounds before they give out!"

From what she saw, it wasn't that intimidating of a sight, what with its misshapen legs and starved appearance. Then again, it could just be Darwinist ingenuity at it again, creating a deadly hunter that looked harmless to its prey. It certainly wouldn't surprise her at this point.

"We should get going," Moira said to everyone around her. "The sooner we get back, the sooner we can get some real rest."

It only took a couple moments to everyone to get their bearings and resume walking. As it had been since their departure from the camp, they walked along an uneven, rocky dirt path that she guessed hadn't been widely used in years.

Deryn had to admit: Alek had grown up in a beautiful country. As soon as she got far enough away from the cities, she was greeted by lush (or, as lush as it could be before winter) foothills, a bright and clear sky, and the brisk mountain air. In contrast to the destruction around Graz, Innsbruck looked peaceful and serene. If she didn't know any better, she would have a hard time believing that there was a war going on in this region.

The disruptor in her hands squirmed around once again, reminding her that she was still, in fact, carrying it. Strange to think that such a small beastie could have the power to knock out Clanker walkers, even if they were lightly-armored. If they were breeding these fabs on a massive scale, then it was no mystery as to how they were beating back the Austrian Clankers. Take away their advantage with machines, and that would shoot down a huge chunk of their options for fighting.

When they had gotten within a half-mile of Innsbruck, Deryn noticed that a bunch of odd-looking machines were scattered around the perimeter of the city. "Moira, what are those things? Wrecked walkers or something?"

"Not exactly. Here, look a little closer." Moira grabbed Deryn's shoulder, turning her towards the closest one. "They're the city's anti-air defenses. See how all of the turrets are angled upwards? There's a network of tunnels connecting these to the city, and we always have a crew ready to man them."

They didn't exactly look like the anti-air weapons she was used to. Aboard the _Leviathan_, the go-to way to fight off aeroplanes and airships was to bombard them with needles from the flechette bats, and if that failed, use the strafing hawks to divebomb them. "They look like Clanker guns from here."

Moira shrugged, and said, "Well, they sort of are. Every one of them was salvaged from walkers that were destroyed or captured. Ms. Gottschalk said she didn't want them to go to waste, so we're using them against Austrian air raids."

That seemed far from the "pure Darwinism" that she had overheard a few rebels advocating on the way down. She was tempted to bring that up, but decided against it. She had already gotten on their bad side once, no need to tempt fate again.

"I know what you're thinking: 'Moira, doesn't that go against everything that Ms. Gottschalk stands for?'" she said, almost like she had sensed Deryn's doubts. "Well, she may be a Darwinist, but she's also a realist. She knows that they don't have the money to buy those kinds of fabs from England, and they haven't got the tech to fabricate them here. So, until the Clankers are kicked out of Austria, we'll settle for using their weapons against them."

"Why not just use these beasties for shooting down planes?" Deryn asked, waving the disruptor's side towards her.

"Well, they tried to do that early on. But I hear the shocks from that little bugger don't have the best of range. It just disappears when it goes too far without hitting anything, which is why we had to be closer to take down those walkers." She sounded like she didn't quite understand the logic behind it herself. "The only explanation I ever got from the docs was that its electrical bolts work a lot differently than lightning, but they never went into detail about that."

Abruptly, Moira stopped her pace, holding her hand up to signal everyone else. Deryn looked ahead; they were a few steps away from the barricades that encompassed this entrance into the city. In the distance, elephantines pulled loads of cargo while tigeresques carried armed men and civilians around the streets. Barely any of the characteristic smog from Clanker cities was in the air, either. If she ever had any doubts about whether they were Darwinists or not, they were gone now.

"We're here," Moira cheerfully whispered.

Two of the stationed guards left their posts and approached the incoming group. "Just leave the talking to me, Dylan," Moira advised her, "this will only take a moment."


	10. Acquaintanceship

Chapter 10

"Acquaintanceship"

**Innsbruck, Southern Austria**

**December 2****nd****, 1916**

Deryn had only been in Austria for a little more than two days, and already she had encountered her greatest adversary: waiting.

She had to wait around the ruins of Graz to meet with the Austrian Darwinists that could take her to Ms. Gottschalk. Then, she had to wait for a walker patrol to stomp by their hideout and test some fabricated weapon out on them. _Then_, she had to wait for Moira to talk with the guards at the checkpoint to Innsbruck and get the A-Okay for her to come inside. And now, instead of talking with the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance leader like she was supposed to, she was waiting around the upper floor of some sort of old castle to get the go-ahead from her. If she knew there would be so much barking waiting around and doing nothing, she'd have brought something to read!

That wasn't to say that the castle was plain and boring to look at. It looked like one of those old history museums her Ma used to take her and Jaspert to years ago, with all of the paintings of kings and lords hung on the walls for everyone to see and the odd floor tiles you never saw anywhere else. Although, a good number of the portraits she had seen on the way up had been torn up or scribbled over with anti-Clanker talk and Darwinist slang. If Alek or Volger caught even a glimpse of one of them, they would probably go into conniptions.

Everything around her seemed off. It was easy to tell that the city used to be Clanker territory, but the Darwinists had definitely adapted to it since their takeover. Looking out the window, Deryn could easily pick out the various mods even from a distance. The factories and refineries scattered around the city for walker production looked abandoned and disused, and now housed the numerous transport beasties that came and went from their massive doorways. The skeletons of elektrical systems stood as they probably had been for years, but were not connected from any of the buildings she had seen during her walk to the castle. Instead, Moira claimed, glowworms and oil lamps were used by every citizen of Innsbruck for light. The few formerly-armed walkers she had seen were made into public monuments to "the failure and self-destructive nature of Clanker society." Even she had to admit that it was a wee bit overdramatic.

Someone behind her lightly tapped her on the shoulder. Turning around, she saw one of the soldiers guarding the door to Ms. Gottschalk's office waving her over. "You have been granted permission to enter. As soon as you let us search you, that is," he said.

A tingle of nervousness ran through Deryn. While her mission didn't require her to keep acting like a boy, she would rather not risk letting her secret spill out. If they patted her down, they'd definitely take notice of her...qualities that men lack. "No need," she quickly replied, handing him the revolver holstered in her waist, then turning out her pockets to show she wasn't carrying anything else. Anything aside from the Clanker communicator on her wrist, of course, but it's not like they would suspect she could carry a gun there. At least, she hoped they wouldn't.

The four soldiers stationed around the office looked at her confusedly, as if they weren't sure if letting her in would break some sort of rule or not. One thing she had noticed during her walk through the city was the quality of equipment for the Austrian rebels. Namely, that the closer she got to the city, the better their gear looked. The rebels she had met in Graz looked rag-tag and mostly had older, outdated guns. Around the city, the armed men patrolling the streets and the castle looked much more like the Darwinist soldiers she had encountered during her travels aboard the _Leviathan_, with their dull green uniforms resembling the clothing worn by British infantrymen, and their rifles looking sleek and advanced. The one common factor existed among all of the rebels she had seen, though, was the black armband depicting a life chain flanked by two broken halves of a gear. Even the flags atop the larger buildings of the area were adorned with this symbol.

"Very well," the guard said to her, "you may enter." Instantly, Deryn's fears of a search were relieved. She had no other weapons with her, anyway, and the mere idea of strapping one to her body was ridiculous. After all, what sort of lunatic would attach a bomb to themselves in the first place?

While the other three stood at attention, the guard pulled open the heavy-looking metal door, revealing a short hallway leading to a single door ahead. More Darwinist rebels stood along the way, guarding the path to their leader. If it wasn't already clear before, they were taking extra measures to make sure she stayed out of harm's way.

Ignoring the armed guards watching her every move, Deryn walked slowly down the hallway as the door behind her shut. Glowworms crawling along the walls provided light for the rather cramped space, although it would probably be much roomier without the six rebels patrolling the passageway.

"Moment of truth," Deryn muttered, pushing open the reinforced door and walking into the private office of Anastasia Gottschalk herself.

* * *

><p>There was only one person in the room: a tall, overcoat-clad woman with a noticeable burn scar running down the left side of her face. It was fairly obvious to Deryn who this figure was.<p>

"Agent Sharp, come in," Anastasia said, with a hint of curiosity in her voice. "We have much to talk about. But first…" she extended her left hand to Deryn, "it's a pleasure to meet you in person. I've read so much about you."

Hesitantly, she shook the rebel leader's hand. "All good, I hope," she dryly said. Looking her in the eyes, Deryn appeared to be slightly taller than her, though not much more than an inch.

"Of course! You have made the newspapers quite a few times, you know." Deryn took notice of the several newspapers scattered around Anastasia's desk, quite a few of which featured headlines from the _Leviathan's_ tour of duty. "Before I accepted the Zoological Society's offer, I did a little research on who you were. Nothing too deep, of course, but I had to know if you were the kind of specialist I needed."

"…And I'm guessing I was?" she asked, trying to hide her growing sense of discomfort. Reading up on a person's war record was fine and dandy, but investigating their personal life and leaving the research around for them to see was pretty unsettling.

"You should already know the answer to that, Agent Sharp." Anastasia pulled out the chair closest to Deryn, offering it to her as she took a seat on the opposite side of her desk. Not wanting to offend her host, she gave a quick "thanks" and sat down.

She expected Anastasia to say something, to bring up her goals or talk about what she was going to do to support the Austrian Darwinists. Instead, though…she just stared at her. No effort was made by her to make Deryn feel comfortable, or to even pick up the papers scattered around the room. Her eyes were fixated on Deryn's, studying her intimately and unrelentingly. The red light pouring in from the tinted window behind Anastasia illuminated her completely, giving her an even more intimidating and eerie presence than before. Did she always do this to her new agents? Or, was this some sort of special treatment reserved for her alone?

If what Dr. Barlow said was correct, Anastasia was no more than thirty-three years old. To Deryn, it was hard to believe that someone that young could be leading a massive revolution, let alone a woman of her age. The responsibilities definitely had taken a toll on her, judging by the thin, almost-invisible wrinkles on her forehead. Even her scratchy voice had a hint of tiredness in it. She had to wonder what sort of toll power takes on a person.

"Your eyes have seen a lot, haven't they?" Anastasia asked, breaking the awkward silence that had been enveloping the room and momentarily startling Deryn.

"Ehm…" Deryn began, not entirely sure how to answer her question, "well, sure. I nearly went around the entire world when I-"

Anastasia shook her head and said, "No, not like that. What I mean is, you've probably seen some things in the past few years that you don't like remembering, right? It's your eyes; they have this sensitive, emotional look to them, like they had to deal with more than a few losses. You don't usually see that in most boys your age."

Unintentionally, Deryn winced at the "most boys" comment. She would have to be careful around this lady; she might be more perceptive than the frequently absent-minded boffins and the daft politicians she had been working with for the past year. "Aye, but I knew what I'd be getting into when I joined the Air Services. I don't regret enlisting in the slightest way."

It might have been her seeing things, but Anastasia appeared to gain the faintest hint of a smile upon hearing this. "Good," she said, "you should never regret the choices you've made." Brushing a lock of dark-brown hair off of her right eye, she added, "God knows I've done a lot of things that were hard to stomach at first, but I didn't just do them for myself. I did them for everyone in Austria that had to suffer under Emperor Franz Joseph and his military lapdogs."

Alek had mentioned early on during their friendship that the emperor was his granduncle, and the person most likely responsible for ordering his parents' assassinations. It didn't exactly shock her that he had caused trouble for more people than just Alek's friends and family. "So you're going to topple him and take the throne, right?"

Anastasia's eyes narrowed, though more in confusion than anger. "He's dead, Agent Sharp. He's been dead since late November."

"…Oh," she said back, feeling embarrassed for being so out-of-the-loop.

"And no, I won't be taking his throne when we push the Clankers out of Austria, if the throne even exists anymore. I'm nothing like the 'Loyalists' and their techno-fascist allies. If all goes according to plan, we will create a democratically-governed republic, with myself presiding as the interim leader."

At least she had a clear plan of action, Deryn thought to herself. Nothing could be worse than handing control of an entire nation over to someone who didn't know what they were doing, at least to her. "Sounds like you've got this all planned out!" she said.

"I've planned out every single detail possible, which is why I'll be putting your talents to use soon." She pointed towards a picture of a middle-aged, balding man with a monocle and an unusually large moustache and goatee. "Karl Renner, the first Chancellor of the Republic of German-Austria." Her tone darkened as she added, "he'll soon be the last…"

He certainly looked like the stereotypical Clanker, with the fancy suit, cultivated facial hair, and ridiculous monocle. He didn't exactly look like he was the type to be a dictator, though. "What all has he done wrong?"

"You mean, aside from keeping the damned 'one culture law' that has kept Darwinists in chains for years? Or, letting himself be bossed around by the Kaiser like the spineless coward he is? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the welfare programs he has been introducing, but not a single one of them applied to non-Clankers before the Civil War broke out! He acts like he's a hero to the common man, but he's just a pathetic lackey pushing his failed Marxist ideas on everyone else!"

She could see the resentment and disgust burning in Anastasia's eyes. Just the sheer intensity of her expressions worried her; there was no doubt in her mind that she was the type to get angered quickly. Just being around her made Deryn feel on-edge, as if the slightest poorly-worded phrase could get her on the bad side of an entire rebellion.

Possibly noticing Deryn's uneasiness, Anastasia seemed to calm down and shift her focus. "Anyway, that's where you come in. Ever since Franz Joseph's death, the Chancellor has been working around-the-clock to convince the 'Loyalists' that he can be an effective leader, even without the advice of the Emperor. But, the Austrian people's faith was in the Emperor, not a Socialist-Democrat Chancellor. We will be escalating our campaign to take back Austria by shaking the faith of its government's supporters and beneficiaries, mainly through collective attacks on key Clanker military targets, slowly taking control of territory beyond no man's land, and a few assassinations to spice things up." A faint chuckle escaped from her lips as she said, "when they see that their 'protectors' can't even protect themselves, they will panic and demand that their leaders negotiate with us. Then, if they don't give in to our reforms…" she tore the photo of Renner in half, and let the halves drop slowly onto her desk, "we'll take their cities by force. Either way, our promises to the Austrian people will be fulfilled."

"So, what am I going to do for now? Should I get ready to shove off, or join up with any of your raiding parties?"

"No," Anastasia responded, getting out of her chair, "you'll have the next few days to yourself to get acquainted with the way we operate. Do whatever you need to do to adjust to our fabrications and tactics, and then you'll be getting your first assignment. If your encounter with those walkers is any indication, you'll be a valuable asset to our cause."

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that she was supposed to be working _against _these people. She had to wonder why Dr. Barlow was so adamant on having the Clankers of all people win this fight. She probably had good reasons, whatever they might be. "Right, then. I'll be sure to take advantage of that!"

"Good. I have to start preparing my next broadcast soon, so you'll have to leave for now. Rest assured, we'll see each other again soon." She walked Deryn over to the door, only stopping for a second to ask, "Your German is top-notch, Agent Sharp. How long have you been studying it?"

Deryn was actually a little surprised. Her German being considered "top-notch" was news to her. "Hm…well, about three years, but I never really had any classes for it. A friend taught me everything I needed to know about speaking German."

"Whoever he was, he was an expert linguist. You'll have to give him my regards when this is all said and done."

She stepped out of Anastasia's office, which promptly closed up as soon as she was out the door. As she walked back to reclaim her revolver, she was left with two conflicting thoughts: the seriousness of having to live a double life and work against everything she stood for, and the ridiculousness of someone like Ms. Gottschalk complimenting Alek for his lingual skills.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Once again, sorry if this chapter is a bit off-schedule. Rest assured, I will be able to update on a much more timely manner from now on.**

**Oh, and to clarify: Karl Renner was, in fact, the Chancellor of the Republic of German-Austria around this time (or, as close as it can get considering how the _Leviathan _timeline works). Nearly everything that was said about him (barring Clanker/Darwinist references) was taken from biographies and encyclopedic articles on him.  
><strong>


	11. Many Happy Returns

Chapter 11

"Many Happy Returns"

**November 30****th****, 1916**

**Outside of Vienna, Austria**

When he had campaigned for peace during the Great War alongside Tesla, Alek took painstaking measures to ensure that he didn't jeopardize his right to the Austrian throne. As such, he primarily drew attention to the horrific conditions in which the Darwinists and Clankers were fighting, usually regarding the trenches of the Western Front. While he was openly critical of Germany for its possible role in igniting the conflict, he generally sidestepped or downplayed references to Austria-Hungary's own role in starting the conflict. That way, he could maintain a public image beloved by the major Darwinist players in the war, whilst also not seeming like a complete turncoat to his people. And, in a sense, he wasn't: he had no ill will towards the Clanker technological powers, and personally preferred machines to fabrications. He switched sides solely because his granduncle and the Kaiser wanted him dead.

Yet, in spite of this, the first word that had been directed towards him upon disembarking the airship was, "race traitor."

It hadn't been said to his face. It was a faint hiss, a vague insult hurled at him by some anonymous member of his escort party. He couldn't make out who it was by direction, as his guards frequently swapped positions while moving. He had to wonder: did everyone around him feel that way? He tried to be as neutral as possible while pursuing peace in a polarizing state of affairs. But, at the end of the day, he had sided with Darwinist England over his home state of Austria. To the average soldier, he might be considered as traitorous as Ms. Gottschalk herself. In fact, some huddled whispers traveling through the _Totenglocke_'s air vents had insisted that he was working alongside her somehow, attempting to subvert Austria's stability from the inside.

Volger seemed unaware of the incident. He had been involved in, and was still partaking in, a conversation with Jung regarding the sweeping changes Austria had undertaken to adapt to the new conflict.

"I still find many of these reforms to be fascinating, although somewhat dramatic for a country in such a delicate state," he told Jung, who was still being pushed along by one of the enlisted men. "Such as these rifles, for example," he pointed towards the angular, thin rifles held by each of the escorts beside them.

Alek had noticed the lack of traditional, bolt-action Gewehr 98's among the Austrian soldiers ever since they had first boarded the _Totenglocke_. Most of them either carried Mauser pistols with extended barrels and wooden stocks, or these rather plain-looking rifles that sometimes had unusual drum-like attachments underneath their receivers.

"Oh, I wouldn't underestimate these masterpieces," Jung said back. "They're Mondragon rifles, made by some hotshot Mexican general, or something along the lines of that. All of them are semi-automatic, so there's no need to operate the bolt unless it jams. Eight rounds in the typical clip, too, unless you're carrying one of these beasts," he tapped the circular magazine of the nearest rifle, "where you get thirty shots in a replaceable drum."

"Amazing," Alek said to himself, feeling particularly astonished. As he had realized during his encounters with the German military, infantry units were usually hampered by the relatively slow rate of fire given by bolt-action weapons. Sometimes, heavier machine guns were given to supplement their firepower, but heating issues with that class of weapon limited its effectiveness. With that sort of weapon, soldiers could produce a near-unending barrage of bullets. It could be infinitely useful in the right hands…or produce horrifying results if given to the wrong types of people.

"Yeah, it is 'amazing.' And we got them for a fraction of the price, too." Jung seemed almost gleeful at describing this. "The Germans bought a massive shipment of them during the war, but they would always jam in the mud of the trenches. So, not even bothering to think, 'you know, maybe we should try testing this weapon in a different environment,' they declared it to be a failure and dumped most of their surviving rifles on us. And, wouldn't you know it, it worked much better in urban and naval warfare than it did in the trenches!"

Although the German military was crafty and downright ingenious at times, the Kaiser was well-known for his shortsightedness and impulsive decisions. It barely surprised him that the Germans had ignored the potential benefits that a self-loading rifle could bring.

"Why the change in uniforms, though? There was never an issue with blue when I was serving. Blue is a royal color, a respectful color-"

"-And a complete giveaway to anyone with half a brain," Jung interjected. "Tell me – what exactly in our current area matches with blue?" he asked, making a sweeping motion with his left arm, noting the dull color hues around the Loyalists' forward base of operations near Vienna. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Never pegged you as a strategist, Volger, but I thought that you'd have the _slightest_ bit of common sense to realize that gray works much better in near damn every situation."

Alek had grown sick and tired of his verbal abuse. He stepped forward, ready to give him the same type of tongue-lashing he and Volger had been getting since they had met Jung…until Volger placed his hand in front of his path, as if he was saying, "no," to him.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way," Volger said. Once again, Jung looked annoyed, as if he had anticipated Alek's intervention, or just wanted to get a reaction from the two. To say his behavior was odd would be an understatement to Alek. It was almost as if he took their presence as a personal offense. Nevertheless, he continued to lead them through the heavily-populated base.

It was odd, seeing so many Austrian soldiers moving around the base without a single one aiming a rifle at his chest. Walkers of various grades, from the traditional Stormwalker design to unusual, four-legged, disc-shaped types, stomped throughout the enclosure of the area. Meanwhile, the heavily-armed Dreadbringer models patrolled the outskirts, aiming their artillery cannons in the direction of the mysterious no man's land. It reminded him of his enthusiasm for walkers from a very young age…and how he learned of his parents' deaths while in the cockpit of one. His stomach churned at the thought of that moment, when he felt like he had lost everything.

The closer he got to the officer's tent, the more people began to recognize him. It seemed as if every soldier he passed by did a double-take at the sight of him, usually accompanied by startled cries of, "Prince Alek?" A few of the more embittered-looking men averted their eyes or shook their heads, while fresh-faced recruits looked so amazed at his presence that it seemed as if they wanted to run over and shake his hand.

In spite of his efforts to remain humble, Alek was unable to stop himself from smiling. He really had made a difference in his people's lives. Even though he had made enemies in the process, he felt as though saving Austria from that disastrous war was well worth the price. He hoped that he could do the same thing with its civil war.

When they had reached the officers' tent, an man in a full colonel's uniform stepped out to greet them. He had an overall gaunt appearance, and was chewing on a lit cigar. He walked oddly, too, as if he had a limp. Most likely, he was one of the "old breed" that had served prior to the Great War.

Jung gave a customary salute and said, "Here they are, colonel. I'm guessing that you'll do the debriefing?"

The colonel nodded, taking the cigar out of his mouth with his left hand. "They both know what they're going to do, but protocol is protocol. Nowadays, everything has to be done by the book, no matter how pointless it can get. Regulations always bog down a fighting man." He stroked his thick, black beard wistfully, and added, "Isn't that right, Volger?"

"It's good to see you too, Waechter." Alek couldn't help but notice that his tone was icier than it had been before, though. In addition, he was wearing his neutral, difficult-to-read expression on his face that was reserved for unfamiliar people and potential hazards to their lives. However, although Volger seemed to know him, his name and appearance eluded Alek's memories, both before and after his escape.

Waechter smiled, either unaware of Volger's change in tone, or amused by it. "Well, no need to stand out in the cold. Volger, Alek, come in. Everyone else, stand guard outside until our meeting is finished." While Jung was rolled away by another private, the remaining five soldiers positioned themselves outside of the tent's entrance.

The inside of the officers' tent was buzzing with activity, mirroring the constant activity outside. The continuous din of radios being operated filled the relatively narrow space with a cacophony of electronic buzzing and coded orders getting sent out. Stacks of documents were being carried back and forth, all while their recipients scrambled to quickly reject or sign off on each one.

Thankfully, Waechter led Alek and Volger to a much less populated "room" of the tent. "So," Waechter asked, leaning on a nearby collapsible chair, "you want to help Austria now, correct? Why the sudden change in heart?"

"Colonel, I've always had Austria's best interests in mind," Alek said, recognizing the thinly-veiled accusation of betrayal in his question. "I only joined the Darwinists because my life was in danger from the Germans! Even then, I never turned against Austria or its citizens!"

"You know, that's a pretty interesting idea you have there." Waechter dabbed his cigar in an ashtray, leaving it there to smolder. As Alek had learned during his travels, no officer's hut was complete without some sort of ashtray, and this was no exception. "That's very noble of you, acting like your little publicity stunt with the Darwinists didn't affect the war effort at all. Placing all the blame on Austria's leadership and Germany? Oh, I'm sure that, in no way, made us seem like the villains of that war, or turned a sizeable chunk of our people against us!"

"Waechter, we did not travel all this way to be mocked by you and your subordinates!" Volger shot back. "We came here with the intention of helping your military bring this war to a close. Now, if you want to continue this childish rant of yours, Alek and I will escort ourselves to the nearest airship and take our assistance elsewhere. Otherwise, I would like to accomplish something other than hearing sarcastic remarks today!"

For once, Alek was grateful to have Volger's unshakeable resolve awakened.

"You know what? Fine, fine. Let's assume everything is hunky-dory between us. Okay, ex-count and ex-prince, you both have been contracted by the Armed Forces of the Republic of German-Austria to lend your specific talents to our cause. Aleksandar…whose last name is still a mystery to me…you will be assigned to our engineering corps to construct and defend military facilities, provide the safe disposal of undetonated explosives and mines, and provide necessary repairs to our armored vehicles. Volger, you will act as an independent contractor and low-level advisor to our officers. Since you both have a _history_ with Darwinist nations, you will not have access to any confidential information without the consent of myself or my superiors. Understand?"

"Well…" Alek began, unsure of whether Waechter deserved his honest opinions or just affirmative lies, "…I have two issues to bring up. The first of which is: technically, I have no 'true' last name. The closest title I have to that is 'of Hohenberg,' although I'm aware that a lot of people still believe it to be 'Ferdinand.'"

Waechter sighed, clearly not bothering to hide his annoyance with them. "Your complaint has been noted. What else did you want to bring up?"

The next part had to be said carefully. "Well, sir…I feel as though my skills are not fully put to use as an engineer. Don't get me wrong, I love working with walkers, and I'm not opposed to repairing Austria's infrastructure! But…my real talents lie with politics. At the risk of sounding like a braggart, I have an immense amount of experience with international relations. I've been tutored on the matter since I was five years old, and I know how to be empathetic to people. I can write and deliver my own speeches, as I did during my tour of the United States with Tesla. I can be a valuable asset to Austria if I work with its public affairs!"

Waechter's expression seemed almost curious, giving Alek the motivation to speak further. "Just think what would happen if the Allied Powers saw someone like me, who has been notably wronged by Clankers in the past, speaking out against the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance! Some of them are on the fence about Ms. Gottschalk and her rebels as it is, so if I address the growing humanitarian issues caused by her rebellion…then who knows, they might pressure her into negotiating! Better yet, they might abandon their support of the rebels entirely! Even something as small as rallying the Austrian people behind your cause would be a feather in Chancellor Renner's cap! I can help you all so much more, if you would just give me a chance."

It was too good of an offer for Waechter to pass up, or so Alek thought. But, instead of an eager "yes," and a reassignment, he shook his head. The fire in his eyes had not simmered down.

"Since you clearly haven't let it sink in since your granduncle disowned you, let me make something clear to the both of you: you are not the savior of Austria sent to save us all. You are not unique. You are not some expert on politics or warfare. You have been in the right place at the right time multiple times in a row, and nothing even resembling competency brought you there. The sooner you grasp your disposability, the sooner you can make an actual difference to the war effort. Have I made myself clear, or are you both still consumed with the idea of retaking a non-existent throne?"

Alek felt humiliated. Of course he had to go mouthing off about his accomplishments in front of an experienced commander! For all extents and purposes, he had gone from very little credibility to a perceived ego trip. Back in the Zoological Society, they had recognized his talents and made good use of them. Why did that have to not apply here?

"Yes, we are keenly aware of your disdain for us," Volger flatly responded. "But, for now, where will our quarters be?"

"You will be moved to – give me a second while I sort this out." Waechter flipped through the large notebook positioned on the table adjacent to them. The entire "room" seemed to belong to some higher-ranking officer, as it had several personal belongings scattered around in specific places. A framed photograph of a bespectacled general sat beside the aforementioned notebook. "Let's see…Alek will be temporarily stationed with the engineering corps' barracks, barrack number 13 to be exact. Volger, you will be permanently staying at our civilian quarters."

"If you remember, Waechter, I am not a civilian," Volger insisted. "I served in Austria's cavalry for many years, and I distinctly recall saving your life when you were nothing more than a hot-headed recruit!"

Waechter merely snorted at the wildcount's claim. "Times have changed, Volger. Not that long ago, I would've been willing to take a bullet for you." He looked disappointed, though whether it was directed towards them or himself was a rough guess. "Anyway, the decision wasn't mine to make. If I could give you some advice, it would be to accept it and to not try to rock the boat. You are both dismissed to your quarters until further notice."

* * *

><p>The barrack itself was unoccupied when Alek arrived.<p>

He and Volger went their separate ways soon after exiting the officers' tent, but not before he had given him one last piece of advice. "Remember, Your Serene Highness," he told Alek, "not all of these men attempted to hunt us down. The more allies you can make, the easier it will be to ward off any enemies among us."

The quarters looked exactly as he anticipated: rudimentary and undecorated, with the only pieces of furniture being metal-frame bunk beds and wooden trunks painted in the bluish-gray color of the old Austrian Armed Forces uniforms. Picking out the only bed without a trunk nearby, Alek set down his luggage on the bumpy mattress. He hoped that he would get a proper uniform by the end of the day; as it was, he had made the mistake of under-packing, and had only a few aged pieces of formal wear with him. Deryn was right, he _was _a complete ditz when it came to practical matters like packing.

As he organized his clothes, the leftmost door creaked open. "Oh, you must be the new guy," someone behind him said. "Well, let me introduce myself. I'm Corporal Boesch, and I'm the medic that's supposed to tag along with all of you engineers. Now, what's your name?"

Alek turned around, seeing that the corporal was fairly young, possibly a year or two older than he was. He looked happy and upbeat, which meant he most likely hadn't been in a serious gunfight yet. On the bright side, Alek thought, he seemed enthusiastic, while the men he had encountered so far were more uptight.

"I'm Aleksandar of Hohenberg," he responded, "but you can just call me Alek."

Boesch looked as though he was staring down a friendly Stormwalker. "A…Alek?" he nearly cried, simultaneously amazed and shocked by his presence. "Good Lord, it really is you! I've always wanted to meet you in person! And, please, just call me Boesch."

This type of reception was a welcome change. "I'll be honest, that's the first time I've heard that today," he said.

"Why? You're a hero! You did so much to help Austria out during the war!"

"Just to clarify, you do know that I fled Austria and joined the Zoological Society, correct?" As far as he was concerned, it was better to have a true ally than an ally obtained from half-truths and deceptions. Those kinds of allies are quick to turn on their benefactors whenever the truth comes out.

'"Well, of course! Just about everyone in the Austrian Army has read about that! But that was your granduncle who ordered your assassination, right? I read those articles about you in the translated imports of the _New York World_!"

No matter where he went, the influence of Eddie Malone's reporting always followed in his wake. At least it had a beneficial impact this time. "Translated imports?" he asked.

"I know that it sounds odd, but the _New York World _has a bit of a following among both Clankers and Darwinists in Austria. The government-run newspapers are unreliable when it comes to world news, and never give honest reports on our wartime progress. The first German-language copies were found in abandoned A.D.A. outposts, and our guys couldn't stop reading them! So, one of the supply officers managed to snag a deal with some printing firm overseas to ship hundreds of translated copies to here, where they're eaten up by both the soldiers on-post and the civilians of Vienna."

"Sounds...treasonous. It's fascinating, too, but I can't imagine that the Chancellor is pleased about this. Haven't the officers in charge ever tried to put a stop to this?"

"They did, but it ended up doing much more harm than good when it came to morale. After a few months, they kind of gave up their crusade and let the circulation continue alongside the state-sponsored one. Funny thing is, the Chancellor himself was the one responsible for lifting the ban on it! He said something along the lines of, 'The people of Austria deserve to know the whole truth about their country's place in the world,' or something else close to it, but the point is that he was willing to sacrifice his grip on the media for us!"

"Anyway," Boesch continued on, visibly enraptured from being the same room as him, "it was because of those stories about your real reason for defecting – and those pro-peace messages you gave during that Goliath tour – that the Austrian people came to respect and admire you." Jokingly, he poked Alek's forehead for effect, and said, "I hope you can pull the same war-ending tricks out of your hat like you did a couple of years back. I'd really like to be able to go home without worrying about getting shot in the near future."

Boesch's name was called from outside the barrack. "Alright, I got to get going back to work. You should definitely rest up while you can, because if there's one thing I've learned about working here, it's that there's no real end to the work you do." He eagerly shook Alek's hand, and said, "It's been an honor meeting you, Alek! See you soon!"

"You too, Boesch." Alek said, as his new acquaintance ran out the door to his duties. He laid back on his bed, trying to get used to the uneven surface of the mattress. It seemed like he was many things to the Austrian people: a hero, a peace-bringer, a race traitor, and a degenerate defector to the Darwinists. Maybe there was so much conflicting information going around about him that they were hesitant to make a clear judgment about him.

"Maybe I should do something about that…" he said to himself, closing his eyes and resting for the trials that inevitably awaited him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Coming with this chapter update is an extensive rewrite of Chapter One, now with 100% less use of unlimited third-person narration, and much more! As always, no key plot details were changed, although some aspects of characters were altered or rewritten. I would highly recommend reading it at some point, as it eliminates a few minor conflicting details between it and later chapters.**

**As always, here's some historical context and clarification:**

**-The Mondragon Rifle was actually a real weapon, and a revolutionary one at that. It was a semi-automatic rifle that fired off of 7.57mm Mauser ammunition, and could be converted into a light machine gun with 30-round drums with certain modifications. The sheer potential for it, however (considering the fact that most armies used aging bolt-action rifles at the time), was squandered during WW1, when it was deployed on the Western Front by the Germans. When it worked, it excelled, but it had issues with mud and dirt-related jams. It did find some success in the German Navy and the Mexican Army, but it eventually faded into obscurity when the Allied Powers stuck by their existing, reliable rifles and heavy machine guns. The spiritual successor to it was the M1 Garand, and that ended up revolutionizing infantry weapons in WW2. Although there never was a (recorded) sale of Mondragons to Austria, I'd like to think that the rifles would've proved their worth if they had been tested in different environments, as they are in this story.**

**-The idea of underground newspapers being distributed has been going on for centuries, though the notion of importing and translating a nuanced paper like the _New York World _is a bit far-fetched. For a war-worn people like the Austrians of the _Leviathan_ series, perhaps the extra effort may be worth getting information from outside of the Kaiser's domain. Is it unlikely? Yes, but certainly not impossible. In a world where giant, flying whale-like creatures battle against cybernetic zeppelins, I don't think that the word "impossible" exists.**


	12. Copper Wires and Nerve Endings

Chapter 12

"Copper Wires and Nerve Endings"

**Outside of Vienna, Austria**

**December 2****nd****, 1916**

To Alek's surprise, he adjusted quicker to the enlisted way of life than he had anticipated. The first few hours of waking up at the crack of dawn for impromptu training were brutal, but his expertise with mechanical devices and decent aim allowed him to breeze through most of the basic steps. Since they did not expect him to experience combat, there was no "physical" side to the training, aside from some obligatory laps around the base and some strength-related exercises. Once it was all said and done, the sergeant that had been grading him gave him a curt, "Good work, son," and told him that his uniform was waiting in the barracks.

Considering the amount of time it took for him to adapt to Darwinist technology, being on this base felt like a reunion with an old friend he hadn't seen in ages. These people didn't muck around with organic materials or living forms of transportation; elektricals were the norm of the population in the area, while walkers of all shapes and sizes provided mobility and shelter. Thanks to his efforts to hold onto his father's legacy, he was still fluent in German, and conversed freely with the enlisted men who looked the least likely to punch him in the face.

Alek's uniform was a little snug around the arms, but he paid it no mind. Just being able to walk around in something other than his aging assortment of Hapsburg garments was a relief. Being able to fit in with the men he would be serving alongside was a benefit within itself as well. While, to the few people who asked about his assignment, he sounded overjoyed with doing anything to help his native country, he deeply yearned for a role that would help him put a stop to this mad war.

Currently, he was searching around the base for wherever Volger was staying. He hadn't seen him at any point of the past two days, although he had been occupied with all sorts of "refresher courses" on old and new Austrian technology. Rumors of an impending deployment were spreading among the men in his squadron, and he wanted to meet with him to discuss their next moves. Also, by the off chance something were to go wrong, he wanted to entrust him with a letter to Deryn.

It pained him to even begin writing that sort of letter, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that he had prepared for every possible outcome. The envelope felt like it was burning a hole through his pocket, the small, scribbled note inside personified his every fear, took his attention away from the present environment-

-Leading him to accidently bump into Sergeant Goldstein, the leader of his squad.

"Oh - sir! I am so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going, and I have no idea where I have to go, and…"

"Stave it off, private. I can tell you're lost." Goldstein took a drag on his cigarette, and said, "Now, where exactly do you need to be going?"

Through sheer luck, or possibly the good will of God himself, Alek had ended up with a lenient man to report to. Goldstein was the antithesis of Jung: reserved, humble, and indifferent to his history with the Allied Powers. The only downside to being around him was that he was a chain-smoker, although it seemed that nearly the majority of soldiers on-base smoked habitually.

"Civilian quarters, I think. My…legal guardian is staying there, and I needed to speak with him in case we get deployed soon."

Goldstein sighed, and said, "Then you should hurry up. We're shipping out to Lienz tomorrow to take care of a mine-laying operation the Darwinists apparently did a few nights back. The brass is saying that they did some sort of indiscriminate mining that's been interfering with the jobs of our guys and the civilians there."

Alek couldn't help but grimace. It was just has he feared: they had no intention of letting him adapt to the culture shock before throwing him into harm's way. "Thank you for clarifying that, sir. Are the civilian quarters nearby, or…"

"They're about a 5 minutes' walk along that road up ahead, but I'm not sure if your guy is going to be there. There's some sort of weapons demonstration in the firing range for some of the commission officers, in addition to contractors with specific privileges. It should be starting any minute now, really, but you'll probably have to wait until it's over to see him."

Did Volger have the privilege to attend that? That Waechter person did say he didn't have the clearance to reside in the officers' housing, but Goldstein had mentioned that some civilians were going to be present as well. Either way, the firing range was closer than the civilian quarters, so it wouldn't hurt to stop by. "Thank you for the information, sir!" Alek said. "I'll be on my way."

Alek gave a customary salute, and ran towards the confines of the base's firing range. Admittedly, he had only used it once for a brief refresher course, but he did not exactly have all the time in the world to himself. Anticipating the unpredictability of deployment, he tried to manage his time as efficiently as possible, familiarizing himself with the practices of the soldiers he would be working alongside of, and trying to make himself seem like something other than a waste of hydrogen.

He could make out about a dozen or so people standing over the pit of the range, looking at something from behind the sandbags lining its edges. There were some Clanker soldiers moving around the area, but they looked unfamiliar to him. Everything they wore was completely different from the Austrian designs, from the brownish-gray uniform color, to the ammo pouch positioning, to even the belt buckle design. It appeared that only four soldiers had this unusual setup.

The closer he got to the firing range, the more he could make out the other oddities behind their appearance: the more aggressive pronunciation, the clockwork-like manner in which they moved, the Iron Cross engraved on their pistol holsters-

Alek stopped himself short, eyes widening with fear. _They were Germans_.

What were Germans doing here? Did Volger know about this? Sure, they were allied closely with Austria, but their inability to control their Darwinist population had driven a wedge between the two in some instances. Tensions tended to rise whenever Gottschalk appeared to gain an edge in the conflict, with Germany threatening to intervene and Austria insisting that it could handle the rebellion by itself.

He had to get out of sight. If they knew he was here, they could easily just kill him in his sleep, exacting the revenge they had wanted for several years now. Lord knows that some of the men around here would not stop them.

Alek slowly backed up, hoping not to draw attention to himself, and then prepared to make a mad dash to the civilian quarters, where Volger was hopefully staying.

That is, of course, until he backed into something cold and mechanical.

Turning around to face whatever sort of walker he had bumped into, he instead found himself staring down a German officer. His coat bore the bars of a full colonel, and several medals were pinned to his chest. Although Alek couldn't be sure, what appeared to be some sort of exhaust port snaked out from his back and through a hole on his coat, releasing puffs of what was probably steam.

"Prince Aleksandar, I assume?" the colonel asked, smiling.

Alek shuddered. If a German was smiling at him, then he probably had nothing good in store for him. "Yes," he said back, too proud to hide his actual identity, but still desperate to get out of there. "I really must be going, though-"

The German officer extended his arm in front of where he had intended to run. "Nonsense, I'm sure you have the time to stay for our demonstration. I believe you will find it very…informative. Please, this way."

On one hand, he could run and try to warn Volger. If he did that, there was the chance he would get caught, or that they would simply find him another day. On the other hand, he was a well-known member of the Zoological Society of London. Hurting him would place Germany in hot diplomatic water, and turn the moderates of Austria against it.

"I'd be happy to," Alek replied, forcing a smile. "Just back to the firing range, colonel?"

"Just Dietrich, please. And yes, back to the range, if you would."

He walked beside Dietrich, carefully monitoring his every move. He kept a decent distance from his arms, just to be sure that he suddenly didn't get stabbed, strangled, or beaten by this newcomer. In his service with the Society, he had faced a few assassination attempts, ranging from a hotel fire to an umbrella modified to launch ricin-filled darts. None of them were ever traced back to the perpetrator, but he and the others all knew that the Germans had to be responsible.

"Aleksandar, you don't have to be so paranoid," Dietrich abruptly told him during the walk, "I'm not going to kill you. None of us are, really."

"Do you really expect me to believe that? After all I've been through, you think that I can just trust people like you?"

Dietrich grunted uncomfortably, and began adjusting something in his sleeve. "The hit on your life and Wildcount Volger's life ended with Emperor Franz Joseph. Once the contact expired, we had no reason to pursue you two further. I can produce the legal documentation necessary to prove it, if it would make you feel better?"

This was the first time he had heard the attempts on his life being referred to in such business-like terms. "'No reason to pursue me further?' What, were you afraid of the political consequences that might stem from killing me?"

The colonel stopped fidgeting with his arm once they had reached the firing range. "Afraid of _you_? Hardly. We had more important matters to pursue than the agenda of a failed monarch." The remaining Germans saluted Dietrich, who descended the ramp into the range. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to begin demonstrating Germany's technological advances."

Now, Alek could try to get away from this place. He doubted the truth behind Dietrich's talk of abandoning the attempts on his life, but he had to inform Volger of this new development. He needed to learn that the Germans knew of their presence here.

"Your Serene Highness," a familiar voice addressed him from the left. The wildcount was positioned beside Jung and another lieutenant, and seemed to be keeping himself lower than the officers around him. Undoubtedly, he had taken notice of the visitors as well.

Trying not to draw any more unnecessary attention to himself, Alek crouched down in the small space between Jung and Volger, leaning on the sandbags piled up around the range. "I take it you've noticed the new arrivals?" he asked Volger, not bothering to hide his concern.

Volger seemed to be calm, but Alek noticed several minor details that suggested otherwise, like his eyes darting around the area, or the wrinkling of his brow. "Indeed, I have. I suppose it was only a matter of time before the Germans figured out where we are, but I never thought they would show up this quickly."

"What should we do? They wouldn't dare attack us here, would they?"

"Assuming that this is not some scheme to lure us out into their territory to be captured – a move that would ruin Germany and Austria in the eyes of its neighbors, I should note – then they probably will not. The greatest threat to the Clankers' stability are martyrs for the opposition, and your death would make an excellent rallying point for the Darwinists and moderates."

Alek wasn't entirely sure if he should take that last remark as a compliment or not. "Thank you…I guess? What should we do, then?"

"For now? Keep our heads low and go about our business. Just because the Germans know we are here does not mean that they will do anything about it."

"What, did you both forget that I'm _right here?_" Jung asked incredulously. "If you both want to have your geopolitical conspiracy talk, then fine, but you can't have it here. You don't even have the clearance to see this, Alek!"

If this really was supposed to be a confidential event, they could not have picked a worse place. The entire range was open-air, and anyone walking by could easily catch a glimpse or two of whatever was going on. In addition, the sounds alone would travel throughout quite a bit of the base. Either the Germans poorly planned this demonstration, or they had no intention of keeping it secret.

"The colonel insists," one of the German soldiers said to them, "that Aleksandar should be present for the demonstration. If you have an issue with this, take it up with him."

All of this formality and courtesy was worrying him. The Germans never had a reason to be polite and open with Alek in the past, so why now? They were clearly planning something, but what in the world could it be?

"If I can have everyone's attention," Dietrich's voice called out from within the range, "this technological demonstration can begin."

Alek peeked his head above the sandbags, curious as to what they were going to do now. In the target practice section stood Dietrich, who had his hand on a large, rectangular crate of some kind. The Austrian spectators' eyes were keenly focused on him.

Dietrich seemed pleased at the attention directed towards him. "Thank you. Now, before I officially begin, I would like to give appreciation to the kind Austrians who accepted our offer of doing this here. Germany and Austria have an inseparable bond that no war can break; we are both driven by a sense of justice and duty, and we are the most advanced nations in the world!"

Some members of the audience clapped enthusiastically at his remark. Once the noise died down, Dietrich continued. "However, our enemies mistake our progress for inferiority. 'You designed walkers capable of operating in intense cold and heat?' they ask, mocking us at every turn. 'We have made separate fabrications for that decades ago!' What they do not realize is that while _they _are building creatures solely meant for killing, _we_ are hoping to improve the lives of our beleaguered citizens. Transportation in extreme climates, land maintenance in unstable terrain – and so much more! While our enemies have their minds trapped in the Great War, we have moved on to greater ideals!"

The embellishment was starting to get on Alek's nerves. For a group of people who had been humiliatingly defeated, they were certainly full of themselves. Even he was willing to point out the pacifistic nature of many of the Zoological Society's fabs!

"The point is this: for the Clanker nations as a whole, peace is our profession. Killing," he chuckled softly, and said, "is just a hobby. A hobby that we excel at, I should note."

Effortlessly cracking open the top of the crate, Dietrich produced a short, rifle-like weapon with a vented barrel. "Gentlemen, the _Maschinenpistole 18. _The next generation of urban warfare weaponry begins with this firearm, which is set to be mass-produced by next year."

He loaded an angled drum magazine into a size port, and held it up higher for everyone to see. "It's lightweight, compact, and easy to transport. Weighs only four kilograms, and is only eighty-three centimeters long. Fires off the nine millimeter parabellum round in thirty-two-round magazines at 500 rounds per minute. To give you an idea of how fast that is, the Spandau MG08 can only reach 400 rounds per minute. To top it all off, it sport one of our latest innovations!"

Dietrich positioned the stock into his shoulder, gripped the underside of the gun in his gloved hands, and took aim.

Straight at Alek.

In that split-second, he felt like his heart was going to lurch into his throat. However, when Dietrich pulled the trigger, the only result was a faint click. Apparently thinking that this was some sort of humorous joke, he briefly laughed. "Thankfully, due to the fire selector, I did not blow that poor man's head off!" He tilted the MP18 in their direction, showing a small switch with three markings beside it. "It alters the mode of the firearm. I currently have it on safety, which locks its trigger mechanism and prevents any accidental discharging. The second setting is semi-automatic, in case you're fond of ammo conservation. Lastly, my favorite: full auto."

Aiming at the bags of grain mocked-up to resemble Austrian-Darwinist militants, Dietrich held down the trigger, releasing a torrent of pistol rounds that punctured and heavily damaged the target. When he ran out of ammo, he promptly tossed the drum aside and loaded a fresh one into it, this time firing in accurate, controlled bursts.

If the Mondragon rifle was a work of fine art, then this was a masterpiece. Even though it was being fielded by people who hated him, he couldn't help but admire its potential. This would put the power of a machine gun crew in the hands of a single man, and without the mobility issues to boot. He could only imagine how effective it would be against unarmored fabrications…those rounds would tear through lighter ones like paper. It was almost terrifying to think about.

Evidently impressed by this display, the Austrians cheered vigorously when Dietrich finished his third magazine in semi-automatic mode. He set the weapon back into the crate, and said, "Now, for the second act of the show," and produced a long-barreled, thin rifle with an attached bipod and an additional grip. "The _Herstellung-Gewehr_, an economic solution to the larger, stronger Darwinist creatures threatening our existence. Still in the prototype phase, though I believe it will reach mass-production by 1918. It looks like an ordinary rifle with some extra bells and whistles, right?"

The other Germans rolled out a large slab of concrete, moving it in front of the targets. Once they had cleared out of the pit, Dietrich said, "You might want to cover your ears. This isn't a quiet firearm."

When Dietrich fired the rifle, a loud crack filled the air, and a large bullet shot through the concrete as if it were nonexistent. It didn't stop until it had cleared the slab and dug itself far into the dirt beside the targets. In spite of the recoil pushing him back, he nonchalantly cycled the bolt and ejected the spent cartridge.

"It may be a single-shot weapon, but its power certainly makes up for it." He waved his hand in front of the fist-sized hole produced by the bullet. "A thirteen millimeter hardened steel bullet. Initially meant for knocking out rogue walker pilots, now made for killing godless abominations in a single shot. If you arm five competent marksmen with these rifles, you have a hard counter to the bear cavalry that Russia used to sack your borders in the last war. To put it lightly: if it bleeds, this rifle can kill it!"

Once again, the audience roared with applause. Even Jung seemed impressed by Dietrich's showmanship, judging by his intrigued expression.

All of these new creations, designed solely for killing other beings. Even though the Great War was over, progress marched on, intent on taking as many people with it as it could. "Your thoughts, Aleksandar?" Volger asked him.

"I've never been so fascinated and horrified at the same time," he said, not taking his eyes off of Dietrich.

"I feel the same way, personally. At a younger age, I might have been cheering like everyone else."

Silently, he slipped the letter into Volger's hands. "I will be moved to Lienz tomorrow for mine-clearing duty. In case I do not make it back…please give this to Deryn."

Volger looked mildly amused at the letter. "And, if Ms. Sharp does not make it back?"

"Please," he whispered back, almost pleadingly, "don't bring that up. I never want to imagine that happening."

Considering this for a moment, he placed the letter into his pocket. "Very well, Your Serene Highness. You should not worry about this assignment of yours, though: I firmly believe you will survive, no matter what."

"What makes you say that?"

"It is your destiny to end this conflict, and it clearly has not stopped since the Treaty of Versailles was signed. I hardly think that God intends for you to die in a place like this when there is still work to do."

Dietrich's voice pulled him out of their conversation. "Now, for one more demonstration. This will be more of the humanitarian sort than the past two, so pay careful attention."

He pointed to whatever that device was coming out of his back. "Did you think that this was some sort of decoration? No, far from it. You see, during the war, I suffered serious injuries from a mortar-related incident. The doctors thought I would never be able to serve my country after that, since I lost both of my arms from the blast!"

"What's he talking about?" Jung asked himself. "He was holding those guns just fine a few minutes ago!"

"But, as luck would have it, I was selected to test a new creation of theirs! Due to the technological innovations of Germany's top scientists, I was able to go above and beyond my former physical capabilities!" He unbuttoned his coat, and proudly said, "Gentlemen, behold: the Prometheus Prosthetic Device, Mark I," dropping it with the end of his statement. As his coat dropped to the ground, the message behind his statement became clear.

Dietrich was part-walker.

Somehow, the German technicians had grafted a great amount of metal onto his chest, back, and stomach, with wires snaking along his arms and into his neck. The two stubs that were once his arms were mostly covered by a metallic frame, which connected to a set of mechanical forearms and hands, each giving a faint whirring noise with each movement. The pipe was connected to his back, releasing exhaust from whatever was powering him.

The Austrians seemed shocked at the sight of him, some looked amazed, and others looked disgusted. Jung looked like he could not believe what he was seeing, and hadn't closed his mouth yet. In spite of all of this, Dietrich was amused at everyone's reactions.

"This device is connected to my nerves, meaning that mental impulses control how my arms move. It takes some getting used to, but within a month it feels as natural as an organic limb does. The load-bearing capabilities for this are one-and-a-half times stronger than the average human, although its limits need to be tested further. As a token of good will, Germany will be leaving one crateful of MP18's for your armed forces. You can discuss the sale and production of the _Herstellung-Gewehr_ and the Prometheus Device with my superiors." He slipped his coat back on, and with a flourish, said, "Until then, it's been a pleasure."

While the Austrian officers conversed with each other in amazement, Alek turned to Volger. "I can't understand this," he admitted, confused. "Germany is in an economic depression! All of the reports said their industrial capabilities were at an all-time low! How can they build such advanced creations as this?"

Volger looked back at Dietrich, giving his words some thought. "Perhaps that is untrue, and that is what they have _wanted_ us to believe. They are well-known for their capabilities to adapt and survive, after all."

"But-how? With all of the reparation payments and wartime restrictions thrown at them?"

"Has Germany been known to lie down and die when other nations have told it to? Remember, Aleksandar, this is a nation that engineered war with France to help unify its territories. Although I shudder to admit it, perhaps even the greatest efforts of the Darwinists could not stop its momentum."

He wanted to find a way to deny it, but it made too much sense to disagree with. "So, you are saying that…Germany is resurgent once more?"

Volger nodded. "Resurgent, and by the looks of this presentation, vengeful."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: If all goes according to plan, the next chapter should be Deryn-centric. Nothing quite like balancing out technological extremes with biological extremes!**

**The weapon demo with Dietrich was partially inspired by the ZF-1 Pod Gun scene from_ The Fifth Element, _and the Hammertech demo from _Iron Man 2._**

**For historical context: the weapons demonstrated in this chapter are both from the time period, but with some embellishments. **

**-The MP18 is considered to be the world's first true submachine gun, and was remarkably deadly in the trenches during the last year of WW1. In fact, German production of it was banned after the war, due to the sheer stopping power it had. There were prototypes of it floating around in 1916, so its appearance here is not exactly an anachronism. The fire selector did not exist on the original design, but it was added to the 1928 variant of it.**

**-The _Herstellung-Gewehr_ ("fabrication rifle") is not a real weapon, but its design borrows heavily from the M1918 _Tank-Gewehr_. Its use in both universes is similar: punching through armored targets that were threats to German soldiers. Since the tank was never invented (rather, officially mentioned) in the _Leviathan_ books, it would be used to combat larger fabs that could withstand normal small-arm fire. Unlike the example above, its appearance at this time is anachronistic, as it only began development in 1917, when the Allies made great use of tanks in the Western Front.**

**Anyhow, I hope you all are enjoying the story's progression so far! As always, feel free to give some feedback in the review box below.**


	13. Conflict of Interest

Chapter 13

"Conflict of Interest"

**Klagenfurt, Austria**

**December 7****th****, 1916**

As it turned out, Ms. Gottschalk's idea of adjusting to the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance's ways of operating involved two days of getting familiar with the beasties they used, and three days of traveling to some city they controlled called "Klagenfurt." As if that weren't enough of a surprise, instead of meeting with their Darwinist contact in a private place, they were supposed to wait for him to arrive in some seedy bar. If all of that wasn't enough to make her feel off-kilter, then Moira and the other rebels accompanying her immediately ordered booze and began trying to drink each other under the table.

So, instead of doing whatever it was that she was supposed to do, she had been relegated to lookout duty as the only person who was completely sober. Then again, it had been an hour without a hint about their contact's arrival time, so she also had the unofficial duty of storyteller for a group of mildly-drunk rebels.

"…So, there we were, being lead into one of Pancho Villa's outposts by manta gliders. The tainted fuel had run its course, and they offered to fix any damages that caused it. But then," she paused for dramatic effect, enjoying the attention given by her enraptured audience, "out of the corner of my eye…I saw a walker point something sleek and metallic at the _Leviathan._"

The more intoxicated rebels let out shocked gasps. Moira, pretty much sober and eager to hear more, put down her mug of lager and asked, "And then what? Did they start shooting at you?" She had been very interested in learning about her time in the Air Service, even down to the more boring aspects of the job.

"Well, that's what I was worried about. So, I donned a glider, took off at top speeds to scout out the area, and there it was: a massive walker pointing a barrel at my airbeast. I had to warn them about this, so as quickly as I could-"

Her story was interrupted by a passing man dropping a long package onto the table. When she got out of her chair to try to warn him about it, Moira grabbed her arm, giving her a look that seemed to say, "He meant to do that; don't draw attention to him." With her war story unofficially concluded, the four men and one other woman in their company turned their attention towards whatever their contact had given them.

While Deryn had her share of experience with secrecy from her Zoological Society assignments, the underground nature of the Austrian Darwinists' methods was still unfamiliar to her. "Are we going to open that now," she quietly asked the others, "or do we wait for some signal?"

Moira's eyes shifted around the room. "We should be in the clear now, I think."

Upon cutting open the package, its contents were revealed. The only things inside were a bulky, black vest, and a slip of paper.

"'_Fraulein _O'Donovan,'" she read from the note, "'you and your men will be participating in the upcoming raid on Lienz in five days' time. Your role will be to capture or destroy an experimental bomb-clearing walker being tested by the Clankers, having lulled them into believing we mined areas of the city. Due to the tighter security measures, you will have to enter via the tunnel system we dug around Lienz. The remainder of our forces will be attacking key positions and attempting to eliminate the Loyalist presence completely from the city.'"

"I'd hate to sound like a ninny," Deryn spoke up, "but I thought that you all had control of southern Austria. How do the Clankers still own Lienz?"

"Lienz has historically been a Clanker-dominant place, even when I was growing up," Tobias answered. Tobias was apparently a veteran of the conflict, having been a member of the A.D.A. since 1908. With his thick, burly build and serious attitude, she imagined that he had seen a lot of unpleasant sights that had affected him in more ways than one. "When the uprisings began in 1915, Lienz held out against us and called in additional support to break our offensive in the region. But, since we started expanding around them, they've had no choice but to do supply drops by air to feed their citizens."

"We can't exactly patrol the path from Clanker territory to Lienz, though," Moira said, inspecting the back half of the orders. "So they can get men and supplies in on foot from time to time, but it leaves them bushed and ripe for a surprise attack or two."

The operation felt off to her, but she couldn't put her finger on why it did. "We are going to warn the people about the attack ahead of time, right? That way, you know, all of the women and children can get out before the shots start firing?"

Some of the men looked at her peculiarly when she had said that. Obviously, the idea was absurd to them, but why? Wasn't it common decency to get all of the neutral people out of the firefight as quick as possible, though?

"It's a nice thought, Dylan, but that would give the Clankers the time they need to prepare their defenses for us. As it is, we're on thin ice with these tunnels into Lienz, especially with parts of that armored battalion stomping around there lately. It's best to go in there and attack when they least suspect it."

"But-think of all the people that'll get caught in the crossfire!" Deryn shot back, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with each new development. "How are the Clankers going to tell us from civilians when the only difference are the black armbands?"

"Oh, we won't even be wearing those for this raid, anyhow," Tobias said matter-of-factly.

They were all so calm about this! "That's even worse! They might get random people mixed up with us and shoot them by mistake, and it'll be all our fault!"

"Look, Dylan," Moira calmly said to her, "I know that you're still getting used to this whole 'guerrilla warfare' idea, but anything goes on the battlefield. We try to avoid getting civilians hurt, but you probably know by now that it isn't always avoidable."

Moira probably noticed her unease and was trying to comfort her, but it felt hollow to her. "All I'm saying is this," she said, not willing to continue the argument, "if our plan really allows innocent people to get hurt, then we're no better than the Clankers."

Tobias slammed his fist against the table. "Say that again," he threatened her, "I dare you."

She had struck a nerve with her allies; Moira looked more hurt than angry at the remark, but the rest were giving her looks that practically burned with anger. Next time, she would have to choose her words better. That is, assuming that these people don't just kill her here.

Moira desperately waved her arms in front of both her and Tobias. "Wait, wait, wait!" she cried, "Let's not start a fight here! He just isn't used to all of this! You didn't mean that at all, right Dylan?"

She glared at Tobias, who was giving her a death stare of his own. "Dylan, you were just exaggerating with the Clanker comment, right?" Moira chimed in.

Not since her meeting with the Sultan had she met such ruthless people. "Yes," she said through gritted teeth. "I wasn't being literal."

Although the offended party had gotten back into their seats, they still didn't look pleased with her. "Good, glad that's squared away!" Moira happily said, trying to act like the last outburst hadn't happened. "Now, there's a side note here…'_Fraulein_ Luciana, you will play a critical role in signaling the start of the attacks. You will be equipped with the assault vest, and positioned fairly close to the vehicle while it is operating. Your training with the Black Hand should give you a clear idea of your role in this scenario.'"

The pale, blond-haired woman in their group looked almost terrified at her orders. "Moira, are you sure…are you sure that was meant for me?"

She looked over the paper once more, turning it over to double-check. "It looks like it. Unless there's another Luciana that was supposed to go with us, but I doubt that's the case." Noticing her fearful expression, Moira said, "There shouldn't be anything to worry about, you know. You'll probably just shoot off a signal flare to start this business, and wear the vest for protection. It looks like those armored jackets the Germans kept going on about in the war, anyway!"

This didn't seem to comfort her any, though. "It does not matter," she muttered with her head hung low, "if Anastasia wants this to happen, then I will do as she says."

"Cover for me a minute, Moira," Deryn said, getting out of her chair, "I have to head for the bathroom right now."

"By all means! Don't dilly-dally, though, because we're going to have a lot of planning to do soon."

As Deryn walked into the men's bathroom, her thoughts turned to the insanity she was about to get into. Dr. Barlow was right; Ms. Gottschalk's rebels were really no better than the Clankers they fought against. All of that talk and concentration about the crimes committed against the Darwinists meant nothing if they were just going to do the exact same thing back to them. How could they claim the moral high ground if they were going to drag innocent people into a running firefight like this?

Something had to be done about it.

After checking to ensure that she was alone in the bathroom, Deryn got into one of the stalls and closed the door. Pulling out the Clanker communicator Dr. Barlow had given her, she attached it to her wrist and set the frequency to that station the Loyalists supposedly listened to. Once it clicked in confirmation, she punched out this message in Morse code:

"IRON AND COPPER – STOP – DARWINIST ATTACK ON LIENZ WILL OCCUR IN FIVE DAYS – STOP – EXPECT REBELS TO BLEND IN WITH CIVILIAN CLOTHING – STOP – HIDDEN TUNNEL SYSTEM UNDER LIENZ WILL BE USED BY THEM – STOP"

Back into one of her inner pockets the communicator went. For effect, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands vigorously. She never thought that she would side with Clankers over Darwinists, but this was a special situation. The easy part – reporting the raid to the Loyalists – was over, leaving her with the difficult task of surviving an offensive that would most likely fail because of her actions.

Deryn exited the bathroom, prepared to play along with whatever plans the rebels had in mind.


	14. Heart-to-Heart

Chapter 14

"Heart-to-Heart"

**Zoological Society of London, British Empire**

**December 7th, 1916**

Being a high-ranking member of the Zoological Society certainly had its benefits. Access to restricted areas and top-secret research, high priority listings for fabrication concepts, and influence with the Admiralty were just a few of the many privileges Dr. Barlow had at her disposal. As long as she never abused these rights for personal gain, she would have hold onto them throughout her career. However, with her refusal to budge on the Austria issue, it seemed likely that she would lose her good standing with her contemporaries at any time.

That was an issue to deal with later, though. For now, she had to figure out what was keeping her protégé from sleeping well.

With both lorises riding on her shoulders, Tazza accompanying her on her right side, and Schmidt following in a sluggish manner, they entered her office. Once the door was shut, they sat down at opposite ends of her desk.

"I suppose I should be the one to start this," Dr. Barlow said. "Something is clearly affecting your well-being, doctor. Not even a week ago, you were acting like your normal, energetic self. But now?" she looked over his fatigued face and unkempt appearance, "you have been behaving oddly. You have been arriving later to work than usual, you are much more quiet than usual, and to be frank, you look like a complete mess. _Something _has been deeply disturbing you, and while I'm not exactly the psychiatric type, I think you would feel much better if you talked to me about it."

"See a shrink," Bovril added, hopping onto the desk with the other loris.

Schmidt's brow winkled, and he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his head down. "Inadequacy," he quietly said, continuing to face downward, "it mostly has to do with my feelings of inadequacy. Lack of appreciation, too, and the general lack of trust from some of my contemporaries as well."

She suspected as much. Alek had mentioned similar issues during his first few months in the Society, although his vocal opposition to Germany helped lessen their impacts. Schmidt, however, was faced with the conundrum of not only being a native German, but also being a relatively recent defector. "Go on…"

"No matter where I go, I get absolutely no respect." He finally faced her, looking at her with his dull, grey eyes. Even during their first encounter, she could tell that he had gone through some harrowing experiences just from the brief flashes of fear he would show. "Back in Germany, I worked tirelessly to create fabs for the sole purpose of being killed and experimented on. All I ever got from that were constant reminders that I was, 'making our Fatherland proud,' and some not-so-subtle hints that I would be liquidated if I started using my knowledge for anyone other than the German Army."

Dr. Barlow considered herself to be a collected woman, not showing surprise unless it was necessary. In spite of this, she could not help but be shocked when Schmidt's case was reviewed by the Council, and when he revealed that Germany had been building its own fabrication program right under their noses. Unlike the Zoological Society, however, the program's purpose was to mimic existing British, French, and Russian fabs to serve as testing beds for new walkers and weaponry. For as long as she had worked here, the Germans had always seemed unwilling to change and naïve to the Darwinists' technological progress. But now? They were driven by vengeance rather than pride, and she feared that they would go to extraordinary lengths to counter their rivals' developments.

"So, then all those mishaps in Istanbul occurred, and I thought you people would welcome me with open arms." He tussled his black hair, clearly aggravated with the subject matter. "Instead, I got…"

"Kraut filth," her loris said, muddling with the unending stack of papers once more. "Destroy this mad brute!" Dr. Barlow quickly hushed her loris, as both it and Bovril broke out into giggles.

"See? Even your presumptuous loris knows what I've been dealing with! No one here trusts me, or is willing to implement my fabrications on a larger scale!"

"Doctor, saying that 'no one here' trusts you is ridiculous." She knew that it was close to the truth, but pressed on regardless. "Plenty of the biologists here respect your input, and are grateful to have you here!"

Schmidt's eyebrows narrowed. "Name five of them, then."

She was on-the-spot now. Scrambling to say something back, she listed the first names that came to her head, fabricators or not. "Myself, of course, and Peter Mitchell, Dr. Jafari, Mr. Popinjay…and Count Volger."

There was some uncertainty in her voice, though, which Schmidt most likely noticed. "Mitchell hates my guts, and you know it! I barely even know that Jafari person, and Popinjay is too afraid of anything I make to respect me. And Volger? Don't even get me started on that snide Austrian noble."

He had her there. "Well, you know that a few of our contemporaries like you, at least. I am not fond of their treatment of you, either, but changing the attitudes of people is not a simple task when you are also considered second-class."

Schmidt's eyes closed, and he sighed. "I know, I know. And I appreciate your support, too. Maybe the problem is that I'm expecting too much."

"In my own opinion? The problem may be that you're still relatively new here. I had to spend half a decade proving my worth before the Zoological Society would put me in a commanding position, and that was even with my family's influence supporting me. You, however, have been here for less than a year, and lack the influence and English solidarity that assisted me. Even Aleksandar has some trust issues with the hard-liners of the Society, and he is one of our most productive and loyal agents. Give yourself a few more years, and you should find yourself appreciated more."

He looked down at his knuckles, rubbing them with an almost uncertain look on his face. "I believe you, Dr. Barlow," he said, sounding not entirely confident. "But a few years isn't exactly a short amount of time. What if things get worse before they get better? How will I know how to live with that?"

"As soon as you trust yourself," Bovril said, "you will know how to live."

Schmidt's gaze shifted to the lorises, with an incredulous look plastered on his face. "This thing is still mimicking what I said, and after all this time?"

"That is how it learns, doctor. Is it my fault you chose to read biblical verses in front of my lorises when you were supposed to be testing your weaponized fabs for issues?"

It took a moment for her comment to register with him. "…Wait, how do you know about that?" he asked, clearly concerned.

"The disciplinary report for the past two weeks mentioned that you hadn't fully worked out the problems with your creations before Mr. Sharp worked with them. I just put two-and-two together with Bovril's sudden tendency to quote Matthew."

"_Mr. _Sharp," her loris said, obviously not growing tired of that phrase.

"Well, at least they won't judge me when I talk to them. Or, I suppose, they won't judge me _that much._ I mean," he said, directing his attention towards her loris, "'kraut filth?' Really?"

"Regardless, my advice to you would be simple: continue doing what you do well, and keep your head down. If you cannot earn the support of some of my colleagues, then you should be able to earn their begrudging respect."

He looked like he was giving her advice some thought. Her goal overall was to keep his head down and out of the way of her less tolerant Council members. Their negative feelings towards Germany could only last so long before they became more apathetic than distrusting, and at that point he may finally be able to prove his worth to the Society. She had to admit that it was a tad idealistic for her worldview, though. There was no doubt in her mind that Germany was growing in power and using the postwar euphoria of the Allied Powers to hide it. It was only a matter of time before the Kaiser acted foolishly and re-ignited conflict between Clankers and Darwinists, and most of her recent actions were designed to hopefully contain the fallout of it.

After a short while, Schmidt nodded to her and got out of his chair. "I understand what you're trying to say, Dr. Barlow. I might be dwelling on the opinions of others too much, while I should be focusing on my work here. Thank you, at least, for letting me talk to you about this."

The two shook hands. "Really, it wasn't a problem setting this up. I'll always be willing to listen to your concerns."

"Well," he said, putting his glasses back on, "I actually do have one more question, but it's not entirely a concern. More of a curiosity, I guess."

"I'm all ears. What are you curious about?"

"Austria. It's fairly obvious that you are against the Austrian-Darwinist Alliance, judging by what happened at the meeting earlier. I never pegged you as a Clanker sympathizer, though. Why do you want the Loyalists to stay in power?"

It wasn't the question she anticipated, but she was prepared to answer it regardless. "Oh, I am not a Clanker sympathizer!" she said, louder than usual. "Of course I want the rebels to win! We just lack the funds to assist them!"

Schmidt was noticeably confused by her sudden change in tone. "…But…"

Dr. Barlow shushed him, holding up a finger as if she were saying, "one second." She looked around the room carefully, making sure to notice any potential openings that would allow sound to travel. She closed each of her curtains one by one, locked the door, and closed the message lizard vents for extra precautions.

"Everything I am about to tell you will not leave this room, alright?" she told him, dropping her voice to a whisper.

"Yes, ma'am, I got it," though he remained as startled as before.

"To be frank," she began, "I do not trust them. Their leader is too unstable for me to put my faith in, and the mere fact that they have connections to the Black Hand concerns me. If the internal reports I…'borrowed'…from the Austrian High Command are correct, they have gotten their hands dirty in more ways than one. Their treatment of Clanker civilians is deplorable as well. As much as I distrust the Loyalists, they will at least keep the country stable if they remain in power. I can guarantee you that the moment Gottschalk's rebels win, Russia will try to wrest control of Austria away from them, and we may see yet another Great War."

"Jesus…that's a terrifying thought."

"I have one more reason to support them, though it is not as selfless as the aforementioned one." Quietly, she pulled him closer. "I have been in contact with Chancellor Renner for the past few months."

"What? How-"

"Quiet down!" she hissed. "I am not at liberty to discuss who initiated the contact, but what _is_ important is that he requested that two of our agents assist his army's efforts to stop the rebellion."

"Alek and Dylan, right? I haven't seen either of them in a while."

"That is correct. Both of them are working to put an end to the Darwinist insurgency in Austria, and in exchange for their service…Renner will ally his nation with ours."

"Good Lord…" he whispered. "But, how do you know he'll follow up on this sort of deal? It won't be easy for him to convince his people to ally with their former enemies, you know."

"I'm well aware of that. Thankfully, I know that Renner is easy to browbeat, and I have contingencies in place just in case he attempts to slip out of the deal."

"Chancellors are a vain and useless thing," Bovril said, to which her loris said, "Barking spiders."

She re-opened the vent and curtains, and unlocked the door. "I hope this was beneficial, Dr. Schmidt. I'm afraid I will have to ask you to leave, as I still have more paperwork to fill out by tonight." Though, judging by the messy conditions of her desk, it would probably take longer than that.

"It was, Dr. Barlow, and you don't have to worry about the things you said. I'm a very tight-lipped person." With that, he left her office, leaving her alone with a thylacine and two perspicacious lorises.

She shooed both Bovril and her loris off of her desk. "I swear, you two are going to humiliate me one of these days," she muttered, signing her rejection of another faulty fabrication.

Bovril and her loris were scampering around aimlessly on the floor, playing with whatever odds and ends had fallen down there. "Clanker sympathizer," her loris said back, "Clanker sympathizer."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This was a tricky chapter to write, hence the long gap in between the last update and this one. I had been planning this chapter for a while now, but most of the ideas for it came from an earlier version of the plot. Most of the events that would have been mentioned never occurred in the story so far, and as a result I had to fill in a lot of blanks and re-write a good amount of material. I can't say I'm unhappy with the outcome, but it was a headache to write despite being only slightly longer than chapter 13. This isn't a filler chapter, though, as it does contain some minor revelations regarding Dr. Barlow's intentions for Austria.**

**For those of you hoping to see what happens next with the inevitable conflict in Lienz, I have some good news: the next few chapters will focus entirely on that from Alek and Deryn's POV's. For now, enjoy the fruits of my labor, and know that I intend to update quicker than I did today.**


	15. Shock and Awe

Chapter 15

"Shock and Awe"

**Lienz, Austria**

**December 12****th****, 1916**

"Alright, gentlemen, the clock is ticking. The sooner we sweep over this street, the sooner our guys can stomp back onto their usual patrols."

Reluctantly, Alek got off the ledge he had been resting on, slid the eight-kilogram battery onto his back, and re-activated his minesweeping device. Running as fast as the bulky gear would allow him, he caught up with the rest of his squad and resumed the search.

When he had first heard of this assignment, he assumed that the heavily-armored walker accompanying them would do most of the searching for mines. As it turned out, though, the brunt of the task fell onto whoever _wasn't _piloting the walker at the time, while disposal was the sole responsibility of the short, centipede-like walker. He had to wonder why they were putting their lives in danger when the minesweeping walker could do the job by itself.

Oddly enough, he barely felt in danger at this point. Despite extensively searching for hidden explosives of any kind, nothing had turned up so far. Even though the streets were kept relatively clear by Lienz's finest, he personally thought that the people here had been duped by a false rumor. Unless only the market up ahead had been mined, this entire search had been a complete waste of time.

"Alek, over here," Boesch called out to him.

Technically, they were supposed to be moving in a "W-pattern," with Goldstein leading in the middle. Both of them were in the furthermost line to the right, though, so he could get closer without breaking formation. Quietly, he moved up towards Boesch.

"What's the matter?" Alek asked him, aiming the metal detector-like device in front of his feet. Aside from picking up traces of metal, nothing significant was showing up on the meter.

Boesch's eyes darted back and forth nervously. "I don't know, it's just…what do you make of all of this?"

"Personally?" he asked, looking at the familiar stands that occupied the sides of the road. "I think that this was nothing but a false alarm." It was hard to believe that, some time ago, he had roamed this place as a fugitive and lacked the social skills to pay for a newspaper. Much had changed since then. "Maybe a grenade accidentally went off, or someone went around spreading rumors about the rebels planting mines all along here."

"So…you think that nothing is going to come of this? That we just overreacted?"

A few of the people beside the police barricades waved to him, probably recognizing him from the articles about his work with Tesla. Well, either from that or from the manhunt two years back, but that would have made him more infamous that famous. He waved back to them as best as he could with all of his gear weighing him down.

"I wouldn't say this was an overreaction, per se. They're just playing it safe with a hotly-contested territory."

With the morning sun shining bright, Alek had to squint as they turned the corner onto their last street. They had been at this for a few days, combing every alley and every road with careful efficiency. The additional soldiers dispatched to guard Lienz in place of the usual walkers would barricade off the road for most of the morning, then clear everything out so people could get to their jobs. While he did feel safer with the constant patrols going around every hour, it was hard to feel entirely secure when their armored vehicles were at an outpost ten minutes away.

Boesch breathed a sigh of relief. "That's a relief to hear! I'd been going out of my mind, thinking that the rebels were using the mine rumor to prepare some sort of attack…"

Alek had to admit, that was a terrifying and entirely possible idea. As it was, the Loyalists depended on Lienz for scouting operations and espionage-related activities. But, it was also their furthest-held city in the south, and was practically surrounded by Darwinist hideouts. Taking control of Lienz, or merely rendering it useless as a base of operations, would greatly harm their ability to predict rebel attacks.

He certainly was not going to tell Boesch that, though. "You might be looking into it too much," he said, trying to instill confidence in him. "There are not that many ways into Lienz that the rebels could use. Believe me, attacking head-on would be a disaster for them!"

Goldstein turned his head towards them. "Alek, Boesch," he said in his typical stoic tone, "quit breaking formation. Job's almost done, but that's no excuse for slacking off."

Most of his squad's eyes were on him and Boesch. Embarrassed for stepping out of line, Alek dashed back into formation and continued sweeping for bombs that most likely did not exist.

* * *

><p>Around half an hour later, Alek was waiting in line to return his minesweeping equipment back into the walker's storage compartment. Literally everyone in his squad was lined up in front of him, leaving him to tap his foot impatiently as each of the eight men slowly placed their sweepers back onto their racks alongside their batteries.<p>

The streets were becoming more populated, especially now that the barricades were starting to come down. Clanker infantry continued to patrol the surrounding area, making sure that no one interfered with the clean-up process. In the distance, the rumbling of walker footsteps indicated that the local elements of the 22nd Armored Battalion were coming back to stay.

And, to top it off, it was bright, beautiful, and sunny day. Even if the temperatures were dipping into more bone-chilling climates recently, Alek found comfort in re-immersing himself with the Austrian culture that he dearly missed. Newspapers and newsreels could only keep a person informed to an extent; he believed that the best way to figure out the state of a country is to talk to its people directly.

Goldstein was off to the side, talking with two other non-commissioned officers. Unlike before, though, he looked as if he were in a vigorous discussion with the two, judging by their exaggerated hand motions and visibly concerned expressions.

Hefting the clunky gear where he first got it, Alek moved his head back in an effort to get some of the kinks out of his back. While the other six members of his squad were talking amongst themselves, he found himself staring aimlessly into the crowd of passerby's, wondering about the days ahead. Today was a simple day, and no one was harmed by the end of their duties, but what was going to happen when they faced an actual bomb threat? Could they work together to avoid causing any more damage? And, most importantly, how could he help end this conflict when that Waechter person was keeping him in such an inconsequential position? He appreciated being able to help Austria in any way possible, but he imagined so many other fruitful ways to assist his homeland. Why was he doing a sapper's duties when he could be negotiating with the rebels, or gaining the support of outside countries, or even working alongside Deryn…

Alek's thoughts immediately trailed off. An eerily familiar face was passing its way through the crowd, slipping through the civilians and police like a ghost, paying no mind to anyone around it. Their eyes briefly met, her deep blue irises gazing at him in recognition before returning into the crowd.

"Deryn's here," he whispered, both confused and terrified at the same time.

What in the world was she doing here? How did she get into Lienz without one of the guards spotting her? While she was on their side, her undercover status made her a rebel for all intents and purposes. His head was spinning; too many questions pushed into his head, and he had no answer for a single one. Amidst the chaos, one thought rang clear: if she got in here, then other Darwinists probably made it in as well.

He had to do _something_, but he had no idea what that would be.

He jumped when a hand roughly grabbed him by the shoulder. Beside him, Goldstein unceremoniously pushed him towards the rest of the squad.

Goldstein cleared his throat, then said, "Gentlemen, I was just talking with two of the local officers stationed here. They say they have credible intelligence that the Darwinists are planning a massive attack on Lienz very soon."

A few men scoffed, others rolled their eyes. Boesch looked like he was going to have a heart attack. "Sergeant," he pleaded, "tell me this was debunked recently."

"I wish I could, corporal. However, they said all of the signs pointed towards it occurring today, and they mentioned a tunnel network of some sort. The infantry here are planning to locate these entrances and flush them out, or destroy the tunnels with timed charges. Our orders are to pack up and go, and stay out of the fight no matter what."

Private Kraus, the Cossack of their group, slowly raised his hand. "Uh, sarge? Not to be a pessimist or anything, but how do they expect us to get out? All of the walkers will probably be taken for the fighting, and going out on foot won't work so well with us escorting that slow-as-hell minesweeper."

"That's been taken care of, private. A transport zeppelin should be docking at the outpost north of here, and that isn't too far of a walk. Most of your belongings should be there, anyhow, so going there would've been a priority either way." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them for warmth, and said, "That should cover everything. Let's move out; the sooner we get out of here, the better-"

The noise of a nearby struggle cut him off. Several policemen were holding a pale, blonde-haired woman down, as she flailed about while hurling curses at them and the soldiers nearby. The remaining policemen attempted to disperse the crowd watching the spectacle, but only succeeded in making them move back further. Goldstein's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly said, "Get moving, _now_."

The woman cried, "Our lady beckons us! All Clankers will fall!" at the top of her lungs, and the world seemed to go quiet for a small moment.

Then a deafening explosion released from her body, launching shrapnel and incendiary compounds all over the ensuing area.

Alek hurled himself and Goldstein down to the ground, just as screaming and panicked shouts emerged from all corners of the street. Several other people nearby dove onto the ground, shielding their heads from any incoming debris. His head was facing the ground, fearful of another explosion, and gradually his eyes looked up to glimpse at the scene.

The surviving policemen were thrown around the vicinity of the blast by its concussive force, with many looking close to death or gravely injured. People were running around left and right, holding their loved ones close as they sprinted away from the area. The few soldiers left nearby desperately attempted to restore order and calm down the masses, but hysteria had already kicked in. In the middle of the carnage lay a smoldering crater, surrounded by the bodies of Austrian infantry and police.

And yet, in the chaos, all he could think about was Deryn's safety. She had walked away before the blast occurred, or that was his hope. A much less hopeful part of him realized with horror that she might be among the bodies there, and he nearly ran over there to look for her.

That is, he would have ran over to the blast site, but then some of the civilians produced firearms and began shooting at them.

Crying out in shock, Alek ran behind the minesweeping walker, flinching with each gunshot that rang out. In the distance, the distinct firing of pistols and rifles filled the once-calm morning. Smoke rose up from a few spots around the corners, and lighter-sounding explosions went off in many directions. The situation was perfectly clear to him: just as Goldstein had said, the rebels were launching an all-out attack on Lienz, taking advantage of their armor being temporarily unable to support them.

The rest of his squad joined him behind the walker, their faces covered with ash and dirt. They were not a combat unit, and as such, were only given Steyr semiautomatic pistols for defense. But, by the looks of the men around him, they had never seen combat before in their lives.

While he had seen more than a fair share of action, it was never easy to get used to it. With shaking hands, Alek loaded one of the two clips into his Steyr-Hahn, and peeked his head around the corner.

The policemen had been gunned down by the better-equipped and better-prepared plainclothes rebels. There were three total; one was watching the streets cautiously as the other two pulled weapons from the fallen Loyalists. With their sidearms, they aimed at the wounded soldiers back against the wall.

Alek got out of cover, flipped the safety off his pistol, and opened fire on them.

He fired two rounds into the watcher's head, killing him instantly. The other two quickly turned around at the noise, and he squeezed three shots off at the left rebel's chest, while the other fired back at him with a Russian-made revolver. He ducked behind a barricade, cringing as the shots penetrated the wood and missed him by centimeters.

He blindly fired two bullets in the last one's general direction, as he fumbled with the other clip in his button pocket. It dropped out of it, landing on the ground and bouncing out of cover. He laid flat on the ground, reached out from the barricade to grab it, and found himself staring down the barrel of a Nagant revolver. The rebel smirked, pulled the trigger…

…And the only thing that happened was the distinct clicking of an empty cylinder.

Alek stood up and pointed the pistol straight at the man's chest. Having only one bullet left didn't allow for much in the way of self-defense, but the Darwinist in front of him didn't have to know that. Unsteadily, he said, "surrender, sir," hoping that his bluff would hold out.

Slowly, the rebel set his revolver down, and slid it over to Alek's side. He picked it up, unsure of what to do initially, before waving towards the end of the road and saying, "now leave!" As soon as the words left his lips, the man sprinted away from him. Holstering the revolver, Alek looked over to the centipede-like walker, but no one was there.

His squad was now by the injured soldiers, holding the weapons that had been dropped in the ensuing gunfight. Boesch was close to each man, trying to assess their wounds.

"Alek!" Goldstein shouted, "over here, quick! This is going to hell in a hand basket fast, and we need to figure out our next step!"

Pushing the other clip into his pistol, Alek ran over to his comrades-in-arms. As he got close to the blast site, the disgusting stench of gunpowder and burnt flesh filled his nostrils, making him feel sick to his stomach. Boesch maintained a calm façade while attending to the four men sitting against the wall, trying to act as collected as he could having just witnessed a murder-suicide. Undoubtedly, everyone around him was as shaken-up as he was.

"Well, what do we do now?" Alek asked, crouching down lower like the other Clankers were doing.

Goldstein looked around the area. "Honestly, I'm not sure. We could hole up in one of these buildings for the time being, and hope that someone on our side comes along and helps us before the Darwinists do."

That did not sound like a safe plan. "Isn't there anything else we can do? Can't we do something to stop this attack?"

"Look, we're not soldiers, Alek. We're just engineers with minimal combat training. I have a duty as your squad leader to get you all back safely, and trying to fight it out with a rebel army would go against every instinct I have!"

The fighting was growing heavier, and by the sounds of it, closer. Unless they did something quickly, they were doomed to get caught up in the pandemonium. "What if we took one of these side paths for now?" he suggested. "We could look around for other Clankers, or just assess the situation while not in the open!"

They looked receptive to the idea. Goldstein nodded his head and said, "That sounds like a plan. We need to take these men with us, though; we can't just leave them here."

Alek and three others carefully lifted the wounded soldiers up, and slowly made their way across the street. An odd, warped barking sound bounded down the alleys nearby. The soldiers' faces froze in horror, as if they recognized that noise from a previous encounter. "Double-time it, now! Stay close!" he shouted.

* * *

><p>He had lost track of where they were the moment they began sneaking around. Lienz had become almost unrecognizable in less than an hour, defaced severely by the petrol bombs thrown around by Darwinists and the Stormwalker shells launched by the newly-arrived walkers. Machine gun fire echoed through each gap, and they had already stumbled across two ongoing gunfights between heavily-armed rebels and the increasingly-overwhelmed Loyalist defenders.<p>

Just when they had stopped to catch their breath, the sad truth dawned on Alek: no matter who won this battle, Lienz would still be in shambles by the time it concluded. A beautiful, historical town was being littered by the bodies of its former neighbors and citizens, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. That was, of course, unless he managed to end this battle before it escalated further.

Alek slowly sat the wounded soldier he was carrying against the wall, and said to him, "I know that it's tough to talk, but you have seen the rebels fight on this scale before, correct?"

The private gave him a confused look. "Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, I've seen how Darwinist militaries sack cities in the past, usually with heavier fabrications and airbeasts to support them from above. Why haven't the rebels deployed any larger creatures to attack Lienz yet?"

"That's because they were public, full-fledged armies; we're dealing with an irregular militant movement that only became public a year-and-a-half ago." He coughed violently, then weakly added, "Their fabs are meant to be stealthy and easy-to-move, but deadly. That's why they're so damn good at ambushing us." His voice softened with fear as he asked, "Ever seen a chimera before?"

The word drew a blank in his head. "No, I don't believe I ever have."

The private reached over and grabbed his shoulder, shivering uncontrollably from the shrapnel still lodged into his legs. "Pray that you never have to fight one. If for some godforsaken reason you do, go for its heads; they don't die unless all of their heads stop-"

His coughing fit returned, and Boesch went to his side to help him breath. The others were getting listless, moving around erratically and pointing their rifles at the slightest noise from around the corner. This cramped, dark alley was not the best place to hide in when Lienz was being torn apart piece by piece.

Goldstein looked at his watch for the sixth time this minute. "Goddammit," he muttered, "the zeppelin's still ten minutes away, and I've lost track of where we are. This is not how it was supposed to go…"

"Then what are our orders now, sarge?" Kraus asked, handing his canteen over to the lance corporal he had been carrying.

"We've done everything we were ordered to do, private. Now, our only objectives are to stay alive and to help protect Lienz."

A faint whistling noise rapidly approached their position from the right. Goldstein screamed, "Get down! Mortar incoming!" as the projectile collided with a nearby church.

Alek's vision blurred and his ears rang. Barely able to see and hear, he ran away from the distinct drone of another incoming mortar, sprinting with all of his might and praying that he would get away from this shower of explosives. He went down streets and alleys and pushed his way through the rubble of destroyed buildings, ignoring the chaotic urban warfare that was going on around him. Self-preservation was the only instinct he had on his mind, and with the last of his energy he broke through the door of a shop and exited through the holes on the other side.

Exhausted, he took deep, frequent breaths and looked around. To his horror, he realized that he had left his squad behind amidst his evasion of the mortar barrage. They might have been wounded in the shelling…or worse. A deep shame filled his thoughts as he realized that he had practically deserted his allies while they were in danger.

More of the same barking came from the road to the left. Glancing over, he saw two…things, two creatures menacingly approaching him.

Not even during his time in the Zoological Society had he seen such abhorrent beasts.

They looked mismatched, misshapen, almost as if their creator had mixed dogs with random sections of the animal kingdom. Their eight legs were oddly varied, ranging from normal-looking to stout, bony, or insect-like. Their fur was anarchistic, with matted areas in the front and thinner patches in the back. Their most noticeable traits were their heads: the smaller one had three, while its larger companion boasted five. They stuck out of their bodies awkwardly like conjoined twins, each vying for its own space to hang from. Although their heads were canine-like, they sported odd deformities and traits from other species as well.

And their teeth. Good Lord, their sharp, bloodied teeth, chewing on a fresh kill and looking to make him their next one. They looked utterly vicious. There was only one fitting name he could think of to describe them.

"Chimeras," he said to himself.

Hoping not to provoke them, Alek slowly reached down to take the butcher knife sticking out around the rubble of this store. Just as he took ahold of it, they charged at him, teeth gnashing and heads focused solely on him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hate cliffhangers, but without this one, the transition to the next chapter wouldn't be as smooth. Consider it a "necessary evil" of sorts.**

**Since I'm a bit of a gun nut, here's some historical context on the weapons featured in this chapter!**

**-The _Steyr-Hahn _("Steyr-Hammer") was the main sidearm of the Austro-Hungarian Army (and, to a lesser extent, the German-Empire) during WW1. Most likely, it was the pistol Alek carried when he brought medical supplies to the _Leviathan _in the first book. It had a unique top-loaded design similar to the Mauser C96, where 8-round clips of 9mm Austrian ammunition were loaded into a slot on the top of the pistol in lieu of a magazine loaded at the bottom. Don't worry, I did not commit the common sin of calling a magazine a clip!**

**-The Russian revolver mentioned during Alek's shootout is a Nagant M1895 Revolver. The weapon was a very oddly-designed firearm: it had seven shots in its cylinder instead of the usual six, it had a special ammunition type made for it (7.62x38mmR), and it was capable of being silenced. Silenced revolvers were, and still are, a rarity due to the way a revolver's gas system works.**

**I encourage you to leave your opinions on the chapter in the review box below. Hearing the feedback of my readers makes it easier to improve any issues that may arise! Also, as always, I appreciate the support of everyone reading this story. I've made it to 15 chapters so far, and I intend to keep going until the story is fully concluded!**


	16. Reunion

Chapter 16

"Reunion"

**Lienz, Austria**

**December 12****th****, 1916**

In spite of whatever orders she had been given, Deryn only had two goals in mind as her marauder group pushed through Lienz.

First and foremost, she had to find Alek. She had caught a faint glimpse of him just as they were moving into position, and she had been worried sick ever since. The walker they were supposed to knock out or capture was right beside him, meaning that he would be a sitting duck once the shooting began.

Second, she was going to keep herself alive, no matter what. Normally, that was a given, but she had the tendency to do daft things whenever Alek was in danger. If she was dead, then she couldn't exactly help him out, now could she?

"Sharp," Tobias growled at her, "quit dawdling! We're off our timetable as it is, and having you slow us down won't do an ounce of good!"

Restraining the urge to give her "superior" a well-deserved slugging, she nodded and caught up with the rest of the Darwinists. They were all armed to the teeth with both regular guns and fighting-based fabs, and she was no exception. Her revolver was still holstered in her trousers, and her disruptor beastie clung to her right hand. Tobias and the four other male rebels carried heavier-looking rifles and explosives, while Moira only had a small pistol on her to better carry Fitzpatrick.

There was no way the Darwinists here could have gotten all of this complicated tech by themselves. Maybe the Russians had been slipping arms across the border in preparation for the civil war? Even then, not all of their weapons were Russian-made, as her hazy familiarity with their designs told her.

They were huddled close together in…something. She didn't know what it used to be, but it probably was some sort of important building. Lienz looked so vibrant and noticeable before the fighting started, but once the destruction began, everything started to have the same battered look to it.

Tobias was even more furious than before, no doubt about it. Just one look at his face was all she needed as confirmation. "Christ, this is just going swimmingly. First Lucianna loses her nerve and doesn't detonate her explosives when she was supposed to, and then she doesn't even knock out the walker or its operators with the blast? Last time I ever ask one of her type to do that sort of job."

Just thinking about Lucianna made her feel nauseous. Had she really blown herself up to signal the attack? She thought she had been seeing things, or that it was just a coincidence, but it simply wasn't true. She really had killed herself and nearly everyone close to her. What sort of maniacs was she working with?

"So, what do we do now?" Moira asked him.

"We stick to the plan, and move on ahead to scout for that walker. Infantry won't be an issue, but armor might cause us trouble. Sharp, if any walkers get in our way, you'll need to bring them down. Everyone understand?"

Several mortars flew overhead, going far too high to strike them. Heavier footsteps rattled throughout the streets, showing signs of walker movement. Although she had been told that the armored battalion would be fighting here, only a small fraction of their walkers would be in Lienz, while the rest were scattered around Southern Austria. This led to the constant problem from Dr. Barlow's assignment: while she was supposed to be helping the Clankers, she was officially working for the Darwinists, which led to her getting ordered to attack them. It was as if she had to go against her objective to fit in with the people she was supposed to be stopping.

"Barking spiders," she muttered under her breath, "I miss the Great War. At least my job made _sense _back then!"

Up ahead, three Clanker soldiers were pinned down by a Darwinist sniper in a window. They were taking cover behind some rubble, popping their heads out every so often without exposing themselves to whoever was shooting at them.

Unfortunately for them, they were right in front of her happy band of rebels. Just as the Clankers realized that they were there, Tobias and two other men shot them, then quickly moved on to give an "all-clear" sign to the sniper in the windows. Then, as if it never happened, they were running through the streets again, dodging past fires set by their petrol bombs and holes created by the shelling.

Moira had been sticking close to her since the first gunshots rang out. She didn't look like she was afraid. On-edge like the rest of them, yes, but not afraid. This made Deryn's goal of protecting her a lot easier, although she doubted that she really needed to be protected. But, since she was the only one who hadn't acted like a complete bum-rag after that argument in the bar, she felt like she had to return the favor somehow.

Up ahead was a wide-open plaza surrounded on three sides by Darwinist rebels. In the center, a fallen Tyrant walker was being used as a sort-of bunker, with the machine guns' being used to hold off the chimeras and other beasties sent their way. Clanker soldiers and policemen were clustered around there trying to make a stand, while a Stormwalker in the back nearby tried to force their attackers out of hiding with explosive rounds from its cannon.

Tobias waved at them to get down, cursing under his breath. "Looks like our path's blocked. If anyone has any suggestions for moving on ahead, I'm all ears at this point."

Moira raised her hand. "Do any of the tunnels connect to where we're heading?" she asked.

His boot tapped the sewer grate below him. "No, the furthest it goes is here. Beyond that is Clanker-held territory, and they're not letting go of it easily."

She had to think of a plan to look for Alek soon. If they were to find him, no amount of convincing from her would save his life, and it would probably cost hers as well. She could always move to one of the upper floors of the buildings here…but, sticking her head out of a window would just make her an obvious target for the Stormwalker up ahead. No, she had to be more subtle, she would have be one step ahead of both sides if she wanted to find him.

"I have an idea!" Deryn suddenly exclaimed to the group, "I'll go down this path here and look for a way around. Maybe I can get to higher ground that way, seeing as how everything close by is a smoldering wreck!"

"Dylan, you can't go it alone!" Moira said back. "You could get killed out there! There's no telling what could happen…"

"…And there's no telling if what'll happen to us if we wait around," Tobias said back, irritated by Moira's concern. In return, she looked almost furious at him, glaring at him for cutting her off and putting her in danger. If she wasn't so determined to move on ahead, she might have feel flattered. "You can go ahead, Sharp. Just don't take too long, or I might have to send someone to make sure you didn't die."

Deryn climbed over the rubble while the others met up with the Darwinists attacking the plaza. Carefully, she slid down, and began maneuvering her way through the wreckage and debris covering the area. Another band of rebels charged ahead in front of her, shooting inaccurately at the besieged Clankers. She slipped her dark veil over her mouth and nose and pressed on.

Using her slender build to her advantage, she easily slipped through the narrow crevices and cracks in the buildings. Standing out in the open could make her a sitting duck, as she had learned from the Darwinist ambush in Graz. It was better to move slowly through the cover, then dash across any open areas if necessary.

Not too long after, she found herself at a 4-way street peppered with the dead from both sides. From the looks of it, they had bitten the dust early on in the fighting, probably when the shooting just started. She had to avert her eyes, it was never easy to see the destruction up-close. Being in the Air Services never prepared her for sights like that. It was much easier to distance herself from the death and destruction when she was hundreds of feet above the ground.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him.

Alek was limping down one of the ash-covered main roads with his head hung low. It was only a fleeting moment, but there was no doubt in her mind it was him. He was missing a helmet, and his clothing had taken some damage, but the brownish-red hair was a dead giveaway.

Her heart jumped. If the rebels found him before she did…no, she wasn't going to think about that. She would get to him first.

She ran faster than she knew she could, driven by both her fears and her desires. He looked as if he was all alone, so approaching him wouldn't be too much of an issue. Besides, she had to talk to him at some point. They had left on horrible terms aboard the _Leviathan_, and if she didn't set it right between herself and Alek, she would never forgive herself.

Peeking her head around the corner, she got her first full look at Alek in nearly two weeks. He certainly had changed, but not for the better. She was almost frightened to look at him.

Alek was in a gray Austrian uniform that had been partially torn along the legs and arms and smeared with blood along its torso. He limped along the way slowly, favoring his right leg while struggling to move his left with each step. He carried a bloodied butcher knife in his right hand. Worst of all were his eyes, which had a hollow, blank look to them. He looked as if he been through Hell and back.

Ignoring her own safety, Deryn ran up to him while shouting his name. His head turned slightly, as if he recognized her voice, then continued trudging onward like it never happened.

"Alek!" she shouted louder, praying that no one else would notice amid the deafening gunshots and explosions. "Alek, it's me! Slow down!"

The gap between them had nearly been closed. Alek looked at her again, though he looked much more terrified than he was before. Shaking, he pulled a pistol from his side and tried pulling the trigger, but the slide moved back from being empty.

"Stay back!" he shouted to her, backing against a wall and desperately raising the knife at her. "Not one step closer!" he ordered her, half-threatening her and half-begging her.

At first, she wondered what had gotten into him. "Alek, are you daft?" she cried. "You know who I am!" Then, she realized that she still looked like just another rebel, and she ripped the veil off of her face. Just like that, his grip on the blade slackened.

"…Deryn?" he whispered, as if he were going to burst into tears at any second. He looked even more beaten-down this close to him.

Seeing him so anguished was too much for her. She quickly ran up to him, pressing her lips against his and holding him close to her. His knife fell to the ground beside them.

Every desperate emotion of hers seemed to come out at once. Deryn kissed him over and over again with much more passion than either of them were used to. She gripped him so tightly that she didn't realize that she was hurting him until he let out a startled gasp.

"Sorry," she whispered, her face less than an inch from his own, "I guess I forgot my own strength."

Alek steadied himself with his left arm, then cringed. "It's fine – it's far more than that, though." Although it sounded as if the battle were winding down, she knew better than to assume it was over. "We need to get inside," he said, mirroring her own thoughts.

"Aye," she threw his right arm over her shoulder, "I'll help you along the way." Supporting him with each step, they walked into a mostly-intact house.

Whoever lived here must have left in a hurry. The small home had most likely been stripped of anything valuable by whoever owned it, then abandoned once the street fighting worsened. Most of the furniture was overturned or damaged by the force of the explosives used around Lienz. Noticing an intact couch, she moved Alek over to it and laid him on his back.

It was sort-of funny. Despite over two years of knowing him, she was always reminded of that naïve "Swiss smuggler" he pretended to be whenever she looked into his green eyes. Even when they were complete strangers, he had still tried to look out for her. Indirectly, sure, but he had helped her regardless.

She softly brushed his hair down. "I think we bit off more than we could chew this time," she said.

Alek weakly smiled at her. "_Much _more, if you ask me." He tried to laugh, but got into a coughing fit instead.

"Don't move, Alek, please. I need to see how banged-up you are." Using her rigging knife, she slowly cut open his shirt, trying to not knick him in the process. With his help, she slipped it off of him, exposing his torso and arms to her. She might have appreciated the sight, if she wasn't so worried about all of the marks on it.

Three long scratches raked their way from his chest to his right side, and even though they had stopped bleeding, they still looked nasty as could be. Two faint teeth marks were present on one side of his neck, and his left arm was indented with the same marks, although they were deeper and more numerous. His right arm looked fine, but his face had a few scuffs and bruises around his eyes. Dried blood had caked itself onto some parts of him; she couldn't even tell if it was his own blood at this point. The only upside was that his back seemed to be unharmed.

"Blisters, Alek, what happened to you? It looks like a tigeresque tried to take a bite out of you!"

"Not a tigeresque, Deryn, a chimera. Two of them, to be exact." He shifted himself further up the couch, gritting his teeth all the while. "They attacked me when I got separated from my squad. I was able to shoot out one before it reached me, but the other one…it went for my throat, and I blocked it with the first thing that came to my mind." He pointed to the bite marks on his left arm. "I had to stab out each head before it let me go."

She stroked the side of his head with her right hand. "Alek, I…I don't even know how to start this. You know I'm no medic!"

"I know, Deryn, but – what's that thing on your hand?" He threw his head back in shock, somehow unaware of the large bug-like fab clasping itself onto her arm. She had almost forgotten she was still carrying it, to be fair.

"This? Some sort of beastie meant for knocking out walkers. I think they call them 'disruptors' or something along the lines of that." Shaking it to loosen its grip on her, she sat it down on a table and began sifting through the cabinets for any bandages or disinfectant.

"…Huh. That explains all of the loose talk about sudden walker failures in battle. How does it work?"

Four cabinets had been empty so far, but she couldn't give up now. "It shoots bolts of electricity by pulling on its tongue." His eyebrows raised at what she said. "Aye, it has a tongue, and no, I don't understand how it works. Maybe it builds up electricity in its belly and releases it when you make it gag?"

She was down to one more. Inside, some gauze and adhesive tape lay partially-used but still viable. She grabbed both and a quarter-full bottle of rubbing alcohol for disinfecting everything, and hurried back to Alek.

"I suppose that could work, but it's the name throws me off. It's just too plain for me. It needs something better, something more descriptive, something like…" he paused to consider it, then snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "shock roach!"

She had to stop cutting the tape to laugh. "'Shock roach?' Alek, are you serious?"

His face turned crimson with embarrassment. "If you have a better idea, feel free to run it by me then!"

"I do have a better idea: hold still." She gently poured small amounts of the alcohol on his cuts, rubbing them in carefully with a clean part of his uniform to disinfect them. Alek was grunting uncomfortably, trying to keep quiet but obviously in pain from the alcohol's stinging feeling. "Ignore the pain, Alek. Focus only on me."

He was squinting from the discomfort, but his eyes were looking back into hers. Those thoughtful, deep eyes of his…she could get lost in them if she wasn't careful. "Deryn – thank you. For everything."

"I'm your friend, you ninny! This is what friends do for each other!" She applied the alcohol to his injured arm as well. Back in Glasgow, they had easy access to bandages that completely cleaned wounds as they were applied while numbing the pain of recent injuries. And here, in what was supposed to be an "advanced nation," she was having to do that one step at a time. It's not that she thought the Clankers were backwards or anything, but they could really benefit from taking a few pointers from Darwinist tech.

"No, no, I didn't treat you like one when I was leaving the _Leviathan_! I'd been beating myself up over that since we last saw each other! I didn't mean to act that way, but the stress was getting to me."

"You were a bit of a _Dummkopf_ back there, I'll admit." Measuring each strip out carefully, she laid the gauze along each scratch, and covered it with the tape. "But I didn't choose my words wisely back there, and I was letting my pride get in the way of what I said."

Alek looked like he had a lump in his throat. "I'm truly sorry, Deryn. I never enjoy hurting you like that."

Always the gentlemen, Alek was. Even when he had been mauled by a beastie with teeth bigger than its eyes, he still had to go out of his way to apologize to her. "I'm sorry too, Alek," she said, kissing him with much less speed than before. His hand moved to the back of her head, and they pushed together once more, finding relief from the conflict outside in each other.

After a while, but not nearly long enough, they pulled away. "I wish we could stay longer," Alek said, "but we will be in hot water if anyone finds us."

"I know, Alek, I know." She wanted it to go on forever, but they were trying their luck as it was. Sifting through one of the closets, she threw a blue long-sleeved shirt to him. "Will that fit you, or should I throw you another one?"

"It should fit, but how am I going to get back with the Loyalists while wearing this?"

"Look, it'll make you less of a priority for rebels to shoot. Besides, if it makes you feel that nervous, you could just take another uniform off of any one of the bodies around here, right?"

Halfway through slipping the shirt on, he stopped and said, "Deryn, that's grave robbing! I refuse to stoop to that!"

She couldn't believe he was arguing about his good conscience at a time like this. "Barking spiders, Alek, we're in a warzone right now! You shouldn't be worried about taking something like that from people who aren't even living anymore! They certainly won't be using it, anyway!"

One thing she had noticed about herself recently was that she found it much easier to swear. Back at the Zoological Society, she had to hold back from calling people 'bum-rags' and 'clart-sniffers' as long as she was in the Society's headquarters. Even Jaspert had commented on it during one of her times on leave, when she had introduced him to Alek for the first time. The moment she got away, though, it was easy to slip back into the old habit.

Alek sighed, and said, "I suppose you're right. We should get going, though."

She helped him get back up, and the two shared one more kiss. Holding the disruptor in both hands, she said, "It's dangerous to go alone, Alek. Take this."

The beastie eagerly crawled onto Alek's open hands, looking up at its new owner with as much curiosity as its compound eyes would show. "What am I supposed to do with it?" he asked, hesitantly allowing it to latch itself onto his good arm.

"Bring it back to your commanders safely, and let them figure out how to counter it. You'll be able to tip the balance in your favor if your walkers aren't as easy to knock down."

"I'll do that." The two quickly hugged, and he added, "Please stay safe, Deryn. I can't afford to lose you."

"I can't lose you either, Alek. And don't worry about me," she walked out the door smiling at him, "I know how to play it safe!"

She ran back the way she came. Though the smile dropped from her face as soon as Alek moved out of sight, she felt some form of relief. He was safe, and she was able to talk to him face-to-face one more time. That was enough to keep her going.

* * *

><p>When she got back to the Darwinist encampment, the situation looked much less stable then it had been before. The Clankers had broken through the makeshift trenches on the left side of the plaza, and were hammering her position with another Stormwalker's cannon. They kept themselves farther away from the Darwinist-occupied buildings, making them practically unreachable by the disruptors' usual range.<p>

Tobias and the others were laying down suppressing fire to hold off an incoming Clanker charge. When she dropped into their trench, he looked absolutely furious. "Sharp, where the hell have you been?"

"Scouting out the area, just like you said," her voice remaining unaffected by his anger. "I found some side paths to get to the walker. I can show you all the way to it."

"Well, scratch that. One of our men sent a chickenhawk our way, and we have new orders: abandon the hunt for that minesweeping walker, and move back to protect the tunnels."

That wasn't the response she expected. "Move back and protect the tunnels? Why in the world would we need to do that?"

"Isn't it pretty obvious, Dylan?" Moira asked her. "We're losing. The Clankers came back at us with full force, and they aren't letting up. Not even the disruptors and chimeras are slowing their advance, they just keep holding off our attacks and taking back ground!"

"Alright, everyone, let's get a move on!" Tobias said to everyone around him. "This entire raid is falling apart, and we need to salvage what's left of it!"

All of the rebels ran past her, except Moira, who grabbed her wrist suddenly. "Dylan, where's your disruptor?" she asked, sounding concerned.

"I…ehm…I lost it." It wasn't something she would be proud of saying, but it was better than telling the truth and admitting she gave it to a Clanker soldier that she was in love with.

She let go of Deryn's arm in surprise. "You lost it? Good Lord, be happy that I'm the one who noticed it! Tobias would have your head if he heard that!"

"So, what should I do?"

She instinctively ducked at the crack of another Stormwalker cannon. "I'll cover for you if he asks, and say you killed it to prevent it from falling into enemy hands. Just don't bring attention to it if you don't have to."

"Got it." Before they started running, she said, "And Moira? I really appreciate you sticking up for me."

She flashed that coy smile of hers at Deryn. "I'm your friend, you plonker. This is what friends do for each other."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Happy 4th of July! I didn't expect to finish the chapter this quickly, but the holiday gave me a lot of time to write it out. After all of the darker previous chapters, it's nice to be able to write some fluff about Alek and Deryn. They really are a fun pairing to focus a story around.**

**Random, relevant historical fact: The gauze and tape part of the chapter is factually accurate for the time period, as modern bandages weren't invented until 1921 by combining - you guessed it - gauze and tape together. Before that, you had to carefully apply the gauze to the wound, then use the tape to ensure that it stayed in place. I figured that, due to the focus the Darwinists have on medical technology in the novels, they probably have invented something close to the modern bandage at this point, hence Deryn's remark about the backwardness of it all.**


	17. Relentless

Chapter 17

"Relentless"

**Lienz, Austria**

**December 12th, 1916**

Wearing the uniform of a fallen comrade-in-arms, Alek limped towards the thundering movement of Stormwalkers.

Seeing as how he was rather roughed-up, he had been resorting to slipping in and out of cover like a snake, moving only when the coast was clear or any nearby rebels moved out. It seemed as though most of the Austrian infantry were bolstering their existing defenses and staying together in large groups, while the walkers were pushing through rebel holdings in an effort to drive them out of Lienz. Since most stragglers had been picked off by Darwinist snipers and marauder groups, he figured that the safest approach would be a stealthy, careful one. It did not help that he was carrying a Darwinist fabrication on his arm, or that the clothes he was wearing were not even his, but maybe he would have the good fortune to not stumble upon a nervous, trigger-happy Loyalist patrol.

All that mattered was getting on-board a walker. At this point, he was in no condition to be fighting up-close or running around, and he did not want to caught alone by more rebels or their fabrications.

Alek slipped out of cover, keeping a close eye on the environment behind him as he moved out into another plaza. Turning around, he saw at least ten Darwinists moving ammunition off of a downed walker. He froze, terrified and hoping that he would not get noticed by them. His once-fast pace ground to a slow tiptoe, just as a shorter rebel looked over at him.

"Hey, we got a Clanker up ahead!" she shouted to her comrades, as they grabbed their weapons and began opening fire on him.

Scrambling, Alek ducked behind a pile of rubble beside numerous ejected cannon shells. The rebels were barking orders at each other, no doubt moving in to flank him as he lamented wasting his ammo on the chimeras. The cynical part of his brain told him that this was it. There was no way he could off that many people with just a knife, how could he even -

- His self-pitying was interrupted by the chirping of that fabrication Deryn had given him. An idea sprouted in his head, possibly one that could save his life. She had said that it was some sort of anti-walker weapon, hadn't she? Could it work on humans, too?

"Sorry about this," he whispered to the odd creature, as he forced part of its tongue out and gripped it like a rope. The disruptor clenched its legs onto his arm tighter for balance. Peeking out of cover, he pulled downwards, sending a bright-yellow bolt of electricity at a rebel barely ten feet from him. He screamed as the volts crackled along his body, and collapsed onto the ground. Alek suppressed a shudder at the unnerving scene.

"He's got a disruptor!" a Darwinist with a Bosnian accent yelled. "Everyone get back!"

Not wasting time on his uncomfortableness with his new weapon, Alek rolled out of cover, shooting a rebel trying to deploy a machine gun and another firing at him with a Mauser pistol. A chimera was loosed from their foxhole, and Alek nearly pulled the poor fab's tongue out as he blasted it repeatedly with electrical energy.

An electrical bolt grazed his head, and he crawled back into cover once more. The familiar sound of disruptor shots crackled all around him, only this time, they probably had at least four of the fabrications on-hand. He groaned; with their numbers, they were going to steamroll him now that his advantage was a moot point.

He tried moving to another position, but the moment his foot moved into view, it was nearly fried by a flurry of electrical energy. Alek cursed up a storm with each step back. Now against the rubble, he prayed that at least Deryn would make it out alive. His hand tensed against the disruptor's tongue. If this was how he was going to go out, he intended to take as many of them with his he could.

Alek ran out on the opposite side of the rubble this time, firing wildly at the well-entrenched rebels as their weapons turned to him…and a deafening explosion struck the downed walker, taking out nearly every rebel in front of him. The two that had survived were struck by burst of machine gun fire, futilely clutching the holes in their chests as they fell.

"Well, well, well!" a voice from behind him called out, "Looks like we found you in the nick of time!"

Standing before Alek was a Cyklop Stormwalker, fully-rigged with two Spandau MG08's and a 57mm cannon. A gray-haired, middle-aged man stood at attention on the opened head of the walker, no doubt the pilot of the fighting machine. With its blue-gray finish, anti-fabrication spikes mounted at several vulnerable places, and relatively undamaged hull, it was the perfect specimen of armored military vehicles: mobile enough to dodge around artillery and organic landmines, yet strong enough to go toe-to-toe with heavier fabrications and come out on top.

Alek could not help but beam with pride. The Austrian Clankers may have tried to kill him in the early stages of the Great War, but their ability to build high-quality military hardware warranted his respect for their craft. Frankly, though, he had no desire to dwell on that time in his life. It was one gut-punch after another for him, all starting because of his granduncle's hatred of him.

"Thank you!" he shouted to the captain, approaching the Stormwalker. "A little longer, and I might not be breathing right now!"

"Not a problem, Your Serene Highness! Glad I could help keep the Hapsburg line going!"

"Oh, there's no need to call me 'Your Serene Highness!'" he said, his voice growing hoarse from shouting. "There is no throne for me to inherit, so there's no need to be so formal!"

The captain cleared his throat. "Climb onboard!" he shouted, shifting several switches to lower the ladder for Alek. "We're short a gunner, and I don't want to have to keep shouting at you! I'm getting a bit hoarse!"

"Same…" Alek began to shout, but held back upon realizing there was no point in doing so. After forcing the disruptor's tongue back into its mouth, he climbed the ladder into the Stormwalker's entry. "Same here," he said to the captain, though quietly in this instance.

The other three crewmembers looked as ragged as could be. They all seemed dead tired, giving Alek the sort of look Bauer and Hoffman would have during their nonstop trek to the Alps. Ammunition, empty rations, and canteens lay disorganized and discarded all along the deck. Despite the chilling temperatures outside, they were sweating profusely from the engines' heat sifting into the Stormwalker, and some had left their outer coats on the floor to try to cool off.

The captain closed up the top, climbed down to the deck, and eagerly shook his hand. "Captain Mannheim, at your service."

"Aleksandar. And, believe me, I am at _your_ service." Humility was not his strongest suit, but it worked better at making friends than trying to assert his mostly non-existent authority.

One of the crewmembers raised the ladder and closed the bottom hatch. "Hey captain," he said, "shouldn't we stop pandering to the race traitor and get back to work? There's plenty of Darwinists left to smoke out."

Alek clenched his fists. "I'm sorry – _what_did you just call me?" he demanded of him, ignoring his every notion of common sense and getting in the crewman's face. "After I've had to deal with rebels, chimeras, and back-breaking minesweeping operations, you have the gall to call me a race traitor _to my face_?"

The private stood his ground. "You heard me, Ferdinand. Just because you wear that uniform doesn't mean you're one of us! We've been fighting off Darwinists for almost three years, and now you waltz in here and try to be the hero?"

"Oh, yes, I'm _definitely_trying to be the hero here, with my joining a unit that wasn't supposed to see combat! And another thing, it's _Hohenberg!_I know you're too ignorant to understand politics, but you could at least try to remember names!"

The private smiled, though less in the "happy" way and more in the "I'm-going-to-mount-your-head-on-my-fireplace" manner. "You can talk the talk all you want, Alek. Care to prove you're more than a spoiled coward crying for his dead parents?"

Clearly frustrated with their fighting, Captain Mannheim moved in between them. "That is enough!" he told them both, commanding the same kind of authority that Hobbes used to demonstrate. "If you two really want to waste time bickering with each other, than do it on your own time. Until then, we have orders to push the Darwinist rebels out of the city, and I refuse to let you get in the way of it!"

Slowly and unsteadily, they backed away from each other. The private returned to his post by the pressure gauges, and Alek took his seat in front of one of the two MG08 turrets.

"Good. Time to get moving, men."

In an impressive speed, the crew quickly got the Stormwalker moving again, utilizing the pressure buildup process in both knees to take small, quick steps. The captain called down to them from the controls above.

"Alek, I'm assuming you know how to operate that type of machine gun, so I won't waste time explaining things. Ashton, Alek, your orders are simple: if it moves and it doesn't look friendly, shoot it. By now, the civilian population of Lienz should be mostly evacuated, so additional casualties shouldn't be a problem. Just don't be too trigger-happy, alright?"

In spite of Mannheim's reassurances, Alek knew better than to assume everyone was out of harm's way. Even with the advance warning, there was no way every non-combatant in Lienz got out of the city before the first shots were fired. He would have to be careful who he chose to target, especially with the rebels still wearing civilian outfits. The Stormwalker's legs began taking longer strides, and rapidly it reached its maximum safe moving speed. It would have been impressive, had the heavy armor plating and complicated wiring not forced its creators to cap its speed at a mere twenty kilometers per hour. On the bright side, it made aiming its cannon and machine guns much easier for the crew.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alek saw the other gunner, Ashton, walk up to him. "Might want to pull your MG back a little farther, sir. The ammo belt's exposed at its current position, and Darwinist snipers love zapping that with those electric things they carry."

"Thank you, but..." he pulled back on the MG08 without it budging, "…it seems to be stuck. Any way I can fix that?"

The gunner kneeled down, removing a rod from the MG's base and pushing it back towards Alek. Casually, he re-inserted the rod and said, "There you go. Still plenty of clearance to see out of the viewport, and much less of a chance of your own gun blowing up in your face. I had a friend who used to serve in a Tyrant back at Graz, and that ended up being the death of him."

"I truly appreciate your help, sir," Alek said, smiling at the rare act of kindness. "It's nice to see a friendly face around here!"

Ashton returned the smile, saying, "Just common decency, sir." Getting back to his post, he stopped turned back to him. "Oh, and just to clarify," he added, removing his Stahlhelm and letting his long, blond hair fall loosely, "it's ma'am," allowing his voice to reach a higher octave. Or, rather, her voice.

"Wait…what…" Alek stuttered, unabashedly dumbfounded, "how did you even get in here, then? I thought they didn't allow girls to enlist!"

"I never did, sir. Just joined a paramilitary group at the start of the civil war, then got recruited as a merc by the Loyalists when things took a turn for the worse." At the sound of approaching gunfire, Ashton put her helmet aside on and returned to her position.

"She and Deryn would have a lot to talk about," he mused. It was strange: he never considered the possibility that other armies might have their own female fighters, hiding their genders to serve their countries in war. Sure, the Russian partisans and Austrian Darwinists had women participating their respective conflicts, but they were not "official" militaries by any means. Was it possible that some of the Clankers the _Leviathan_'s crew had killed during their tour of duty were disguised women as well, faring much worse than Deryn as she carved out a successful career? If he hadn't felt so dazed from the non-stop pace of today, he would have been abhorred at the thought.

"Heads-up, everyone," Mannheim shouted down to them, distracting Alek from his potential guilt. "We're being directed to assist the evacuation of wounded towards the south. That's where the fighting is the heaviest, so stay sharp. Rebels might be hiding around every corner…"

Alek could tell that it was about to get lively. Though, he still felt secure within the confines of the Stormwalker. In spite of him never touching one after his initial escape, he held it in high regards for its durability and firepower. Before the heavier walker models exited their prototype stages, the Stormwalker was the go-to walker for cracking defenses wide-open and withstanding heavy damage. Even with all of the funding cuts due to the Darwinist strikes, there were still enough produced to keep Russia from inflicting damage beyond the area around Austria-Hungary's border with it. Even two years later, it remained an effective weapon in the Clankers' arsenals, as he and Deryn learned the hard way in some of their assignments.

His hands held the spade grips of the MG08 tightly, twitching it at the slightest hint of movement. Just because he felt safe did not mean that he actually _was_ safe. After all, if what Deryn said was accurate, then the rebels were more than capable of downing walkers such as this.

He saw a shadow lean out from an upcoming street corner. Nervously, he charged the machine gun's handle, pointing the air-cooled barrel ahead of where this figure might run. He refused to his allies suffer at the hands of another Darwinist ambush. His index fingers were up against the trigger, just as the shadow moved slightly, revealing that more than one person was hiding behind that corner.

His breaths were getting heavier. He wished he could flush that person out and get the suspense over with. He had to wonder how Ashton could be so calm right now-

-The figures lurched out into the open. Panicking, Alek fired off a burst roughly ahead of where they would be running. They stopped, covering their heads and screaming in terror, though completely unharmed.

Alek's heart practically leaped into his mouth. It was just a group of six refugees, trying to stay out of the line of fire, all dressed in regular peasant garb.

"Jesus Christ, Alek!" Mannheim called down to him. "I said watch your fire! A few centimeters higher, and we would have much more to worry about than rebels right now!"  
>The refugees ran to the other side of the road, still covering their heads in fear. If he had been any closer…he would never forgive himself. Fighting dissidents was one thing, but hurting people who had no role in the war was an unforgiveable act to him. His hands still shook, horrified by the murderous potential he had nearly reached.<p>

A hand was laid on his shoulder. Standing beside him was Ashton, who produced a cigarette from her pocket and offered to him. He shook his head and respectfully declined the offer, only for her to light one for herself.

"Don't beat yourself up too much for that, Alek," she said, smoking in clear violation of the "Flammable Materials, Do Not Smoke Here" sign posted on the ground. "We all have our near-miss moments. Just be grateful that nothing came of it, and keep your focus on the mission."

"But…" he muttered back, unwilling to look her in the eye, "those people…I almost…"

"My point exactly. You _almost_hurt them, but they got out unscathed. Just be more cautious next time, and move on." She moved back to her post, and added, "If you ask me, the biggest weakness a soldier could have is a moral compass. Always gets in the way of the job."

"That's…Ashton, that's just not right!"

She half-raised one of her eyebrows, faintly smiling at his remark. "You're correct, it isn't 'right.' Nor is it wrong, to be exact. If you'd get off your high horse, no offense intended, you might find that ethics are a lot murkier than you may have thought."

Before he could try to argue his point with Ashton, the Stormwalker stopped moving. Focusing back on his viewport, the walker was now standing near a partially-destroyed hospital, with Loyalist soldiers and medics scrambling left and right to attend to the many wounded people lined up by the entrance. The patients outnumbered the medics four-to-one, and it seemed as if they were running short of basic supplies like bandages, often using pieces of cloth as substitutes.

One of the medics jogged under the Stormwalker, where Mannheim had already lowered the ladder for him. From just a glimpse at him, Alek could tell that he had been caught in the battle early on. His clothing was caked in ash and dust, his helmet had several dents and scratches along its base, and a bloodied white bandage was tied around his arm.

Feeling some sympathy for his condition, Alek helped the medic step off the final rung of the ladder and into the Stormwalker. His face had a friendly, but almost naïve, look underneath the dirt smeared all over it. He seemed familiar, but he could not put his finger on why…

The medic suddenly broke into a wide grin. "Alek! Good Lord, you're alive!" Boesch eagerly hugged him, saying, "You scared us to death! We thought you had died during the shelling!"

"How did you even make it here, Boesch? Where's everyone else?"

Boesch's smile dropped as his eyes looked down. "We heard that some of our medics were rallying around here, so we dragged those wounded soldiers over when the counterattack started. Not all of us made it among all of that confusion, though. I just want to go home, Alek…"

Truer words had never been spoken that day. "I think we all do."

"As much as I'm loving this little reunion," Ashton said, "I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be briefing the captain on the situation here, corporal. Might want to get on that soon."

"Alright, alright, just give me a…" Boesch stopped himself short at the sight of Ashton, whose hair was sprawled along her shoulders in a feminine manner. His mouth was still partially open, and his eyes were wide with disbelief as he unsubtly took in the sight of her. He just stood there, lingering. Alek was not sure what there was to look at: it wasn't that Ashton was ugly, but he couldn't see what made her stand out so much to Boesch. Then again, he was in a relationship with a girl who had been disguised as a boy for over two years, so perhaps he lacked authority in what was widely considered to be attractive.

"Something wrong, sir?" Ashton asked, feigning an innocent look for Boesch and stroking her hair seductively.

"I…ehm…I-I should get going." Boesch quickly climbed to the upper deck of the Stormwalker, crimson with embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Ashton covered her mouth to try to hide her uncontrollable laughter. "What was that about?"

"I think he's become a fan of you," Alek said, shaking his head at Boesch's apparently poor social skills.

"I'm not sure what to make of that, but it was sweet." She paused, tying her hair in a neat bun and putting her helmet back on. "Well, sort of. Sweet, in a really awkward way."

Boesch descended back to the ladder, stopping only for a moment to say, "Stay on your toes, Alek. The fight's winding down, but that doesn't mean it's over yet. And…" he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, "it was nice meeting you, Miss…"

"Marlow. But, please…" she put a hand on his left cheek, tormenting poor Boesch even further, "call me Ashton."

Blushing even harder than before, Boesch opened the ladder hatch himself, moving so fast that he nearly slipped off the hinges on the way down. Acting as if nothing notable had just occurred, Ashton raised the ladder and closed the entrance.

"Was that really necessary, Ashton?"

"Necessary? Of course not. But enjoyable? No doubt about that."

Alek was thrown off-balance by a sudden jolt of movement by the Stormwalker. Pressing up against the viewport, he saw their walker move towards an improvised roadblock manned by the few non-medical personnel around the hospital, taking position in the gap between barricades.

Captain Mannheim walked down to the gunner's floor, flanked by the other two crewmembers. "Gentlemen, our orders are simple: fight off any rebels trying to pass through here until the gyrothopters arrive to evacuate the wounded and pick off the remaining Darwinist stragglers. It sounds simple, but our scouts have reported that a sizeable number of the surviving rebels are attempting to retreat in this direction. We may be dealing with more than a few bands of marauders this time around, so stay sharp. These medics are counting on our help. Now then, any questions?"

Alek raised his hand. "Do we have enough ammunition to hold out? We seem to be running rather low on MG rounds."

"Depends on the amount of rebels coming our way, if any are at all. The Aviation Troops said to expect their arrival in fifteen minutes, so we may get lucky and avoid a firefight entirely."

Just then, several heavy gunshots cracked nearby, and the familiar sound of MG08 bursts filled the air. "Belay that thought! Everyone, to your stations! We need to protect the hospital, no matter what!"

Immediately, the group split up, with Alek and Ashton manning the MG08 turrets. Above them, Alek could hear the Stormwalker's main cannon being readied. He prayed that the gyrothopters would arrive soon; they were clearly exposed and in the open, most likely to draw fire away from any of the medics scattered around the area. He did not appreciate having to take the role of a bullet sponge.

From both sides of the road ahead, a group of at least twenty rebels charged towards their position, firing on the barricades while a few bolts of electricity grazed the Stormwalker. Targeting the rebels wielding disruptors, Alek cut them down one by one with a continuous stream of bullets. The 57mm cannon bellowed, blasting the remaining Darwinists into crumpled heaps across from the hospital.

More rebels poured in from the right, taking cover wherever possible and firing blindly at them. He and Ashton fired on the unlucky ones who didn't make it to cover in time, mowing them down as the crew above finished reloading the central cannon. A Darwinist with a disruptor jumped out of cover, and Alek took aim at her, only for his MG08 to click uselessly. He tried pulling back the charging handle to unjam it, but to no avail. He had run dry.

"Ashton!" he frantically called to her, "I'm out of ammo!"

After several more bursts from her turret, a similar clicking was produced, and she pounded on her turret repeatedly. "Same here! Captain, you need to target that Darwinist with the electric-"

The Stormwalker shuddered, as the excessive electrical energy from the disruptor began surging through its vulnerable internal systems. Upstairs, he heard the other crewmembers cursing and prying open the cover to its elektricals.

"Internals are fried, sir! At this rate, the knee pressure is going to start dropping soon!"

The 57mm cannon fired off once more, destroying the contingent of Darwinists holed up nearby. Their walker began to shift backwards from the force of the cannon, losing the precious balance that it needed to keep fighting. Steam shot out of the Stormwalker's knees as the pressure below gave out, and the armored fighting machine buckled and dropped slowly onto the ground.

Ashton tackled him onto the deck and yelled, "Stay low!" amidst the screeching and grinding the Stormwalker made as it crashed into the concrete, throwing them both onto their sides. He felt his arm and leg wounds open up again, and he gritted his teeth as the unbearable pain returned. Slowly, he rolled out from under her, trying to reduce the pressure on his injured leg. It was hard to believe that its expensive weaponry and armor was rendered useless by a fabrication barely the size of a bottle of beer. The disruptor that Deryn had given him chirped wildly, excited by the spectacle that had just unfolded.

Helping Ashton up, they crawled up to the ladder release, and pried open the exit hatch. "I'll get the others out," she told him, "you need to help the people outside hold out a little longer."

Pushing the rubble that blocked the exit aside, Alek crawled out into the open. The defenders looked even more beleaguered than before, as yet another Darwinist group was attacking the chokepoint now that their Stormwalker had fallen. Several of the Clankers had been downed during the relentless rebel assault, and it was clear that they could not hold out much longer.

Unless he did something incredibly stupid to keep them at bay.

Getting his disruptor into its firing position, Alek limped up to the crudely-fashioned metal barricade manned by five Loyalists. He aimed the fabrication's mouth blindly from behind cover, pulling down continuously to release bolt after bolt of electrical energy. He slightly altered the direction of each shot, mimicking the repeating action of Clanker automatic weapons. He could not even tell if he was hitting anything, only that more bullets began hitting his spot of cover than anywhere else. The excited chirping that the disruptor once gave had turned into pained warbles as Alek continued to make it regurgitate electrical energy.

Crouching into the half-made trenches beside the barricade, Alek raised the fabrication up and resumed the "reaping" effect once more, not bothering to look at his targets while firing at them. He wormed his way from one end of the trench to the other, shooting constant bolts of electricity along the way.

He slipped behind the next barricade and pulled on the fabrication's tongue, only for nothing to come out. Several times more he tried to make it fire on the rebels, but its legs had gone limp and its tongue dangled from its mouth. Its pincers had closed up, and its compound eyes had taken a glossy look as well. Had he just killed the creature from exhaustion?

A nearby Loyalist handed him a mud-covered Mondragon rifle, and he peered around the barricade to see what they were now dealing with. Ten Darwinists remained, wielding conventional weaponry and pushing dangerously close to their position. He squeezed the trigger of the new weapon repeatedly at the advancing rebels, but only the first few shots rang out. Turning the rifle to its side, Alek noticed that the ejection port was jammed by a trapped shell.

Angrily, he flipped it over and slapped its side, desperately attempting to unjam the rifle as the Darwinists grew closer and closer to their last-ditch defenses. He was out of weapons, ammo, and even ideas on how to salvage the situation. The Clankers beside him dug through their ammo boxes, fruitlessly looking for the resources to continue fighting. He couldn't die here, he would not allow himself to die out here when there was so much work to be done. With no other options available, he got on his knees and prayed, begging for some reprieve from the surreal madness surrounding him.

The distinct humming of gyrothopters whirred overhead. Above their roadblock were four of the heavily-armed aircraft, manned by Austria's Aviation Troops. Their mounted machine guns fired upon the surviving rebels, effortlessly gunning them down before they could fire off another shot. Once the dust had settled, they started landing by the hospital, preparing to escort the more critically-wounded out of Lienz.

Alek's head was spinning. Ignoring any potential dangers that may lurk around the corner, he stepped out of cover and into the open street. Numerous Darwinist bodies were thrown about the path ahead. Structural damage covered each building in sight, ranging from minor burn marks to completely-collapsed supports. Dust and ash blew throughout the air, covering everything nearby with a light coating of grime. Behind him, the Clankers began piling up their own dead, haphazardly tossing their deceased comrades aside to make room for the two gyrothopters landing close by.

Although the scope of the realization temporarily eluded him, the sight hit Alek with a harsh truth: in an effort to protect Lienz, they had nearly destroyed the city and its inhabitants.

"Good work, Alek!" Mannheim shouted, walking out from his disabled Stormwalker. "I haven't seen that sort of bravery in combat since the trenches. I'll be sure to put in a good word for you at High Command. Someone of your ingenuity deserves more than an engineering detail! After all, you just helped save the whole damn city!"

Still dazed, Alek nodded at the captain and stared off into the distance. His ears were ringing. A distant memory returned to the forefront of his thoughts, carrying a bone-chilling message for him.

It had been early on in his life, when his father taught him historical lessons instead of the tutors he would grow accustomed to. "…His name was King Pyrrhus of Epirus, Aleksandar, and he was a mighty ruler indeed," his father told his enthusiastic younger self. "But he interfered with Roman politics far too much, and his belief in his superiority proved to be his downfall. When he attempted to invade Sicily and Southern Italy, his armies were destroyed in one victory after the other. Eventually, he was forced to retreat, utterly defeated."

He was so confused at the story when he first heard it. "But, father, how is that possible? If Pyrrhus won the battles, how did he lose the war?"

"Well, the armies of Rome outnumbered his greatly, and they could replace their men much easier than he could. So, despite making minor gains, his army was reduced to nothing over the course of five years. At one moment in the war, he famously said to his advisors, 'Another such victory and I am undone.' Ultimately, the Romans were able to defeat him at Beneventum, securing their country once and for all. My point, my dear Aleksandar, is that sometimes an individual victory can lead to a defeat over time."

Standing among the ruins of Lienz, Alek laughed bitterly.


	18. Damage Control

Chapter 18

"Damage Control"

**Innsbruck, Austria**

**December 18****th****, 1916**

As Anastasia's father told her countless times in her teenage years, mobility was key to any person's survival. Being willing to move whenever a change was necessary was what kept her family going, in spite of the harsh Darwinist-only taxes that made their lives a living hell. As such, she carried on his advice by shifting the location of her headquarters every few weeks; that way, she could fool any Clanker assassins and make public appearances much more convenient.

It wasn't much, but it was a better legacy than letting him be remembered as "that one farmer who got shot by an on-edge group of Clankers during a routine inspection."

While several conscripts packed up her office, she sat in the hallway beside eight Black Hand operatives and Adrian, who was handling the impressive task of coordinating a response to the Lienz raid with her five territorial governors simultaneously. The situation looked as complicated as it sounded, with him listening to the chickenhawk messages provided by each governor while trying to craft unique means of controlling the fallout of their supposed defeat. While most of their messages varied in tone, they all shared a common theme: asking for more fighters to back up their existing defenses.

In fact, the entire hallway of – well, whatever castle they had temporarily seized as a center of operations – buzzed with activity and excitement. Patrols had been stepped up following the failed retreat from Lienz, as many of her advisers had warned her that the Loyalists may perceive their withstanding of the raid as an opportunity to push into the south. It was hardly anything to worry about, at least, in her opinion. As well-intentioned as her advisors were, they lacked…imagination. They focused on the short-term outcomes, rather than the long-term effects it would have on their campaign.

Lienz would be a stepping stone for her. She would break their defenses down, outpost by outpost, until she would walk into Vienna and rip out the black heart of the Clankers.

Until then, she had to play the waiting game, which amounted to acting like a defenseless young lady to Darwinist allies for any necessary supplies and having to appeal to their obnoxious, wasteful nobles for monetary support.

"_Fraulein_ Gottschalk?" Adrian called over to her, fumbling with a crude stack of notes beside the chickenhawks. "My lady, I need your help for a moment."

Anastasia audibly groaned, annoyed both by Adrian's inability to multi-task and the use of "my lady" again. It made her sound like a stuffy princess who lived off the hard work of her subjects. She had hoped to be treated as someone to look up to, certainly, but that phrase was too pompous for its own good. She already had to deal with sharing a name with a Russian princess, and inviting any more comparisons to the cancerous nobles of Europe was not part of her agenda.

She walked up to the improvised communications center, followed on all sides by her Black Hand bodyguards. Adrian was trying to separate the chickenhawks from fighting each other, as they tended to do when kept together for too long. His fingers were getting nicked from the fabs' pecking.

"_Be still_," she ordered the fabrications. At once, they stopped bickering and turned their attention towards her.

Rubbing his sore hands, Adrian whistled in respect. "So, it seems your theory was true after all. Do you think every last of our fabs will do the same, though?"

"They all have some of my life chains embedded in them, so they'd better obey me on recognition. Besides, it isn't too hard to make them stand down."

Technically, it was a violation of the Zoological Society of London's fabricating codes to use human material in the creation of fabs. They argued that, in using human life chains, one ran the risk of creating self-aware beings that would either suffer immensely in doing their jobs or become too intelligent for their own good. However, they had rejected most of her requests for help, so as far as she concerned, they could take their old-fashioned rules and shove them into whatever orifice they preferred.

"All of you," she addressed the chickenhawks, "give this message to your masters." While they prepared to memorize her next words, she cleared her throat and moved closer to them. "This is Gottschalk. I understand that many of you are concerned about the outcome of the raid on Lienz. In spite of a less-than-satisfactory retreat, I believe we have accomplished our stated objectives for the attack. While we were unable to secure the prototype minesweeping walker, we forced the Loyalists to deal heavy damage to their own infrastructure and hardware. It will take them months to fully recover from the aftermath of that fight."

Abruptly taking a pen from Adrian's hands, she scribbled out a short list of orders for each fabrication, and tied it to one of their legs. "Enclosed with this message is my recommended plan of attack for each sector. Momentum is on our side now, and if we don't act soon, it will shift to our oppressors. Make any revisions if necessary, but _do not surprise me_. If I hear that any of you took excessive liberties with my instructions…then, I may have to visit you personally. End of message."

Anastasia rolled the desk to the window and shooed each bird away. They separated, flying in the general direction they came from. Hopefully, the recipients would do exactly as she said. She had little tolerance for failure or disobedience.

She wanted to admire the view and bask in the warmth of the sun, although her damaged right eye hindered that notion severely. Depth perception was a thing of the past for her, which is precisely why she liked being accompanied by at least one other person. They would be able to detect threats that would elude her sight, like Clanker gunmen or mercenaries…or strikebreakers sent to break up her protests.

A cold shiver surged through her body, leaving her with an exposed, vulnerable feeling. Her hand softly touched her blind eye, tracing the distinct scar left behind from the incident five years back.

How they were able to ascertain her position among the massive crowd was beyond her, but they pushed through every last one of her supporters, dragging her onto the stage she had just given a heartfelt speech on, throwing her down, and viciously beating her with nightsticks. Instead of begging them to stop or even attempting to roll away, she laughed at their self-destructive show of force and at her overall misery, which only compelled them to hit her harder. By the time their superiors had arrived to finish quelling the crowds and drag them away from her, she was bloodied and bruised, half-laughing and half-sobbing at the same time.

All of the doctors gave the same diagnosis: severe, permanent damage to the right cornea; the scars might go away over time, but she would be blind in that eye for the rest of her life. Disabled for life, just because she had the nerve to stand up for herself, just because they hated her for being different, just-

"-Anastasia?" Adrian softly said to her, snapping her out of the painful memories. "You're shaking. What's the matter?"

Sure enough, her arms were wrapped around her side, gripping her body tightly while her back was pressed closely against the wall. Some of the people passing through had stopped to stare at her, gawking at the sight of their leader in a moment of weakness. Anastasia gritted her teeth in anger; she was not going to be pitied. "Get back to work!" she yelled, sending the masses scrambling away. Once the crowd had dispersed, she signaled the others to follow her down the hall.

"It's nothing important," she muttered as Adrian stepped beside her, "just an old memory I'd like to forget."

He flashed Anastasia a skeptical look. "I highly doubt it's unimportant, but I will take your word for it."

"It isn't important," she repeated, using a more forceful tone this time. "Besides, it isn't worth dwelling on. We still have two major tasks to finish up before the move."

"I'm aware of the test for that new weapon of yours, but the other is eluding me. Is it more of a personal matter?"

She hated having to spark rumors among her comrades, especially at a critical time such as this. However, the matter at hand had been consistently causing her concern for two weeks. At the very least, someone as important to her as Adrian deserved to know. "No, I can tell you, so long as it stays between us." She waved her bodyguards back, and moved closer to the wall beside him. "It's about Agent Sharp. I've been looking through his and his family's files, and there have been…inconsistencies."

"Inconsistencies?" he asked, adjusting his eyeglasses from an involuntary brow-raising.

"Nothing about his activities with the Air Services or the Society, of course. But, there seem to be contradicting reports about his siblings. All of the information I've gathered mention a cousin named Jaspert and some aunts, but I caught a glimpse of another name brought up. Something along the lines of…Deryn? I'm not entirely sure if it was spelled that way, but it looked close to it. This girl popped up a few times where Sharp would normally be listed."

"Odd. What do you make of it?"

There were several potential explanations for the inconsistencies. He could be hiding information about a sister with a tragic past, or faking a birth record to exploit loopholes in the recruitment process, or possibly just falsifying records for petty reasons. They all seemed far-fetched compared to her new theory, even if it did reach quite a bit.

She could save that for another time, though. "I'll let you know after we see my next design in action. From what everyone in the lab has been saying, it might take care of their armor's advantages once and for all."

"Shall I accompany you, or do you want me to get back to work?"

"No, no, come with me. I've been working on this fab for months, and I think you deserve to see it in all of its glory!"

* * *

><p>Early on in the war, a fighting pit had been constructed nearby the castle to create an enclosed space for testing new fabrications. It was a large, deeply dug-in area, with two ground-level entrances facing each other. These days, it was typically used to figure which among the new breeds were unfit for combat. The weak were sorted out from the strong, and recycled into the creation of better fabs. Today, it got to act as a proving ground once more.<p>

Anastasia, Adrian, and several of her local advisers watched the site patiently, awaiting the moment when her new creation would finally emerge from the darkness. Her pulse was racing from nervousness. What if all of her work led to another dead end? She wouldn't be able to bear the humiliation of hatching another failed fab. Her supporters were already growing impatient with her progress. What if they abandoned her just like the Committee of Union and Progress? Hope was so easy to dispel, but doubts had pervaded her mind since she had been reduced to an orphan.

A distinctive screech alerted her to the fab's presence. She glanced at it, and found herself in awe. It had turned out perfectly.

The fabrication was easily eight feet tall, walking on all fours like an ox. Its features were extremely varied: two massive, shield-like front legs with rough, craggy skin, and two smaller, less protective legs in the back supporting it; a bulbous torso with two short appendages on its sides; a large, pea-shaped head connected by a thin neck near the middle of its body and a large mouth filled with sharp teeth; and a skin tone somewhere between green and brown. It ran gracefully around the pit, using the momentum of its weight to take great strides.

She must have been smiling widely, because at some point Adrian said, "You look awfully happy."

"Admit it," she said to him, playfully punching his shoulder, "you're impressed."

"For now, yes. I'm holding off on judging until I see it in combat."

There was a two-pronged test for its combat skills. First, they dragged out four unlucky Clanker prisoners, barring the gate behind them and ordering them towards the stationary, unmovable machine guns pointed at the creature. They fired on the fab from four different angles, but it ducked its head below its front legs as the bullets failed to penetrate their thick, armor-like skin. Once their weapons ran out of ammo, it immediately rammed the emplacement, and delivered crushing blows to each dazed prisoner one by one.

Now that its survival instincts and defensive capabilities had been confirmed, stage two began with the lowering of a Loyalist Stormwalker into the pit. On-sight, the fabrication reared its head back, keeping its mouth open as it was filled with a bile-looking fluid. Its head shot back forward, spitting the solution onto the thickest point of the walker's armor. Slowly, the acid chewed through the point of impact, exposing the machine's delicate internals to the air. The creature hurled more of its acidic solution onto the walker's legs, eating away at its supports until it toppled. Once the dust had cleared, it rushed to the upper deck and viciously pounded its front legs on the metal surface.

She felt immense pride. Not only did the fabrication function as-intended, but it exceeded some of her expectations as well. Infantry, armor, gyrothopters, they all would be rendered obsolete by her it. It needed a name, though. Something expressive yet powerful-sounding, like…

"…Vitriolicant," she said.

"What did you say?"

"The fabrication. We'll call it a vitriolicant. The name fits perfectly, don't you think?"

Meanwhile, the vitriolicant in the pit pranced around in an almost-celebratory manner, reveling in the ovation that the onlookers had given it. In addition to all of its other abilities, it seemed to recognize basic human speech patterns. As far as Anastasia was concerned, it was one more benefit to consider.

"I suppose it does. Now that you know it can fight, what do you plan to do next?"

"What will I do next?" Anastasia chuckled softly, keeping her gaze fixed on their ace-in-the-hole. "Hatch as many as we can before the year is over, and start fielding them during our major assaults once our reserves are large enough."

As the vitriolicant was escorted back into the other gate, it left behind a scene of grisly carnage that warmed her heart. Filled with an unusual amount of confidence, she faced her advisers and made a proud declaration.

"The age of Clankers is at an end! Starting today, we will drive them from our lands! Their weaponry and numbers cannot match ours any longer! Soon…Austria will be ours to control, and _no one_ will oppress us anymore."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I've been meaning to touch upon this POV for a while now, but the opportunity to do so has eluded me. Well, until now, that is.**

**As much as I despise cliffhangers, I have an important announcement to make: I'll be going on a bit of a hiatus once this chapter is posted, so don't expect me to follow the usual update schedule for a while.**

**Now, before you all begin throwing full water bottles at your computer screens, hear me out.**

**I'm still enjoying being able to write this fanfiction. But, its overall story has shifted radically from when I first started it in February. While all of the major events of it have been drafted by me, the middle section of this fic is a jumbled mess for now. I need to figure out what happens when, and to whom. I've planned to kill off characters that I've had changes of heart about, and vice-versa. I think the best solution to this problem is for me to take some time and really plan out the path of _Between Two Giants_ before I write chapter 19. Also, I want to start up some side projects in the meantime. I don't want my writing to get stale from writing one story consistently, and I have a lot of fun ideas for other stories that would never work here. **

**I appreciate all of the support you have given me. Rest assured, this fanfic will not die without a proper conclusion. For now, it will just rest until I feel prepared to wake it once more.**


	19. Neunzehn

Chapter 19

"Neunzehn"

**Outside of Vienna, Austria**

**December 20th, 1916**

Although most of Alek's injuries were superficial in nature, one of his legs was banged-up enough to require a week's worth of rest and recuperation in the base's hospital. As such, he found himself trying to find ways to kill time while ignoring the sinking feeling that he and Deryn were officially over their heads in this mission. He had tried taking up drawing, but found that his hands were not as steady as he would've like them, and that his skills left much to be desired. Most of his recuperation was spent trying to contact Volger about talking with him, and making small talk with anyone he could.

His most recent guest was Ashton, who was also recovering from what she feared was a concussion, but what the medics insisted was a trivial bump on the head.

"…I mean, really, why bog down your actions with labels like 'right' and 'wrong?' At the end of the day, it's all chemicals running through your brain, making you _think_ there's a meaning behind these feelings."

"There's far, far more behind emotions than a bunch of chemicals, Ashton-"

"-Really? Think about it this way: don't you feel good when you lie to someone to make them feel better about themselves? It's the same feeling you get when you do some genuine good for them. But they're not on the same spectrum of morality, right? So what separates the two when they make you feel the same way?"

"For one? Lying isn't always bad, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone in the process." Lord knows he had his fair share of experiences with white lies. "In that case, they make you feel the same way because they _are_ similar."

Ashton shrugged. "You have a point, but that still doesn't answer my question. When actions leave the black and white area of ethics, what are they considered? Is it bad to inflict pain on a person if other people benefit from it?"

Alek found himself looking at the floor. He didn't have an answer to her question; many like hers had been plaguing his thoughts since his return to Austria. This wasn't like the Great War, where everything could be fought from a safe distance and the action seemed sterile. Everything was much more brutal in design now, and non-combatants were getting dragged into the fighting, whether they wanted to escape or not. War looks so much more glorious from a distance…up close, it reveals its true, ugly colors, and consumes everything around it.

"I'm not liking that blank look, Alek," Ashton said to him. "Time to move on! I have some reading material for you, one from a visitor and one from yours truly."

Dropped onto his lap were a brown folder and a hardcover book. The folder had some German writing on the front, though he was far too tired to make out the details. "Where did this come from?" he asked, unclasping the button on the folder's side.

"Some German colonel told me to give it to you. He said it was for your eyes only." Ashton pulled a small bottle of translucent brown liquid from her undershirt, and took a swig. "I looked anyway. It wasn't anything special, just some German intelligence articles detailing their plans to smoke you and your friends out."

One of the orderlies snatched the bottle from Ashton, triggering a steady stream of curses from her that Alek didn't even know were words beforehand. "The German's name was most likely Dietrich," he said, hoping to get her mind off of the confiscated liquor, "and he seems to think he can convince me that his nation only wishes the best for me."

"Well, it would beat the hell out of fighting for those Darwinist animals, that's for sure. I've had to put up with them since I was a little girl, and they are nothing but bad news!" Once Alek gave her a sharp glare, she hurriedly added, "Present company and all of his friends not included, of course."

One of the many things that confused him about Ashton was her nationality. Her name wasn't Austrian, and her accent and pronunciation of German phrases were off at times. But, she had managed to be an anti-Darwinist militant for some time now, and had even won their trust as a mercenary. So, where exactly did she come from?

"I'm guessing you want to know how I got here?" Alek nodded, and she continued on. "I grew up in London, back when being a Clanker didn't have quite the stigma there that it does now. My parents were wealthy machinists, something that didn't quite sit well with the Darwinists when they began crying for war. So, when they started having to come home with loaded guns, and when I started having to beat the tar out of my classmates just to make it through the day, we decided to move to a place where our talents would be of use." She stared wistfully at the shining sun through the window. "All my life, Darwinists have been there to ruin everything, no matter where I go." Her fists tightened as she said, "I'll die before I let that happen here!"

Running from one's demons did warrant some sympathy from Alek. Though, while he had gotten over his aggression towards his persecutors, Ashton seemed to embrace it. "And where are your parents now?"

Ashton paused, collecting her thoughts. "Six feet under," she muttered. "They died during the initial uprising."

Alek shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with…well, just about everything that had been going on since he took this assignment. "Ashton, I'm sorry," he quietly said.

"There's no reason to be," she said, shaking her head. "After all, it isn't your fault. Besides, I'd rather have someone sensitive like you to talk it out with." Perhaps recognizing how flirtatious she sounded, she immediately backpedaled on the conversation. "It's not like that! Believe me, I'm not interested in you that way! I just like talking with you!"

It was a small consolation for him. At the very least, he could avoid having to deal with a love-struck partner following him around and less-than-subtly flirting with him. Still, he figured he might as well prod her about it while they were on the topic. "Oh yes, I forgot. You prefer men like Boesch, correct?"

Ashton groaned. "Please, don't even joke about that…"

"What, is he not your type?"

"It's more that he's as awkward as could be! It's as if I'm the first thing with a rack he's seen since he got deployed here! Every time I see him, he starts blushing and looking away, or even worse, trying to start small talk with me…"

Alek chuckled, setting aside the folder for later. The book had a simple hardcover with the title _Beyond Good and Evil_. "What's this?" he asked her.

"It's a book I first read as a little girl. It taught me a lot about people and why they do the things they do. I thought it might help give you some clarity on life around here."

He set the book beside the folder. "I'll take a look at it later."

Of course, there were more problems at hand than the civil war itself. He had a wheelchair-bound and irate lieutenant holding a grudge against Volger and him for reasons he still were unaware of. The Germans were suddenly cozying up to him after everything he had done to hinder their plans for the past few years, which was a little more than suspicious. And now, most importantly, he was isolated from Deryn, hoping and praying that they would reunite unharmed once the conflict died down. Or, the cynical side of him noted, _if_ it died down before it consumed them both. It had been running unhampered by outside influence for the past year or so; what was going to stop it from continuing now?

Hopefully, he would be the one to stop it.

Around the corner, Volger stepped into the room. In addition to wearing his old cavalry uniform, he also seemed a little less composed than usual. As far as Alek was concerned, he had every right to be worried, seeing as how it had been at least a week since they had any contact whatsoever.

"Leave us," he said to Ashton. She stood, looking rather amused for a moment, then shrugged it off and walked to the other side of the room, taking Alek's book with her.

Volger immediately took her seat. "Your Serene Highness," he muttered, glancing around the waiting room.

"Volger, with all due respect, you can stop calling me that." Although he greatly appreciated his continued recognition of his former title, Alek had accepted his status as a commoner years ago. For better or worse, he was no more or less influential than anyone else.

"And what would you prefer? Just 'Aleksandar?' I don't pretend to understand some of your actions, Alek, but why you would forsake your father's legacy is beyond me."

"I am doing _anything_ but throwing away his legacy!" he shot back, suddenly feeling flustered. "If that were the case, would I have sided with Tesla and forced Germany into a peace treaty, or returned to Austria to fight alongside the Clankers?"

Though he wasn't entirely sure, Alek thought he heard a faint snort coming from Volger's direction. "You tell me."

Alek was about to say yes, but held his tongue. Would his father want him fighting alongside the people who may or may not have had a hand in his demise? Would he have wanted Alek to coerce Germany into a ceasefire by giving them the threat of annihilation?

"It doesn't matter. Let the past be the past, I suppose." Volger's gaze shifted to Ashton, who was gently rubbing the bruised area on the right side of her head. Alek winced; that was the exact area that had been struck when their walker collapsed. It didn't look too serious, but then again, not all serious injuries were noticeable. "I see you've added the nihilistic expatriate to your new group of friends. Can you really trust her?"

"She saved my life, so I don't see why not. Besides, I'm just doing what you said: making allies and creating inroads as long as I'm here! As long as I surround myself with people unlikely to settle scores with me, I'll be fine!"

Volger's lips curled into a smile. "Glad to hear you've taken my advice to heart." He went silent as an orderly passed them. "While you have been winning the hearts and minds of the foot soldiers, I have re-connected with some of my old colleagues in the High Command. So far, the outlook of this war doesn't look positive."

That was enough to get Alek's attention. "What's the matter?"

"A number of problems: Russians supplying the Darwinist rebels with equipment and manpower, a growing division among the major European powers about the war, and the Clankers losing traction throughout the region. Oh, and let's not forget the loss of Lienz as a strategic outpost."

"The loss of Lienz? But, I was there! I fought there, and I helped secure the city from the offensive!"

"So I've heard. While we're on that note," he said, switching into his tone reserved for lecturing Alek on things he should know already, "take care _not_ to do anymore heroics like that while you are here, understand? Defending yourself is reasonable enough, but taking the gunner's seat in a Stormwalker and jumping into a trench to try to distract rebels? That was downright suicidal of you! If you were to die, then all of my work, all of your father's work, would be in shambles!"

"You think I don't already know that? I had no choice, Volger! I'm not nearly as hot-headed as you think I am!"

"If I recall, your _ex-princeliness_, you threw away the rights to an entire empire for a commoner girl. Is that not hot-headed?"

He gritted his teeth. "Not if it's true love, it isn't!" he declared, becoming increasingly exasperated with Volger's refusal to accept Deryn's permanent place in his life. Why could never adjust to the fact that he was in love, and that he had to make sacrifices for it to work?

Once again, a quiet but audible snort came from Volger's direction. "I can tell this won't go anywhere. Getting back on-topic, yes, Lienz has lost much of its value following the attack. The rebels were awfully clever, forcing you all to level civilian dwellings and destroy tunnels to hold them off. Now, not only do you have a refugee problem that will be exploited by the Darwinists, but re-construction of the infrastructure could take months! Keeping in mind the rumors of a major Darwinist push, I doubt you will have the time to complete it."

At first, it didn't make sense to Alek. How in the world did they lose that battle? The rebels were thoroughly held back and defeated, and their retreat out of the city was disastrous. Yet they had somehow claimed this as a strategic victory of sorts? He should be the one gloating over this, if he was the gloating type. Then, as he caught sight of some of the injured patients being wheeled around the infirmary, he understood.

The notion had come up shortly after the battle ended, though he had dismissed it with an uneasy laugh. In fighting off the Darwinist rebels, the Clankers had destroyed a great amount of cover that they were hiding behind, which amounted to blasting away walls, supports, and tunnels. They were so focused on holding Lienz that they never considered the consequences of using such devastating weaponry so close to home. The rebels had tricked them into irreversibly damaging their own foothold in enemy territory.

"_Mein Gott_…" he whispered, his thoughts swirling from the revelation. "How could a group of labor agitators plan out something that insane?"

"Like Nora and I said in the briefing, I have no doubts that Ms. Gottschalk is a very unpredictable and clever woman. It would not surprise me if she had this suicidal plan enacted to soften up the defenses in the area…though, it seems too much for one person to plan out."

"Well, she has to have subordinates helping her with that sort of thing. How else could she keep a steady grip on all of her territory and create strategies for her rebels?"

"She likely has subordinates, though it seems that my fears were correct: not all of them are Austrian."

"What, do you think that there might be some Serbs working with her?"

Volger's brow furrowed as he said, "Not just Serbs, Black Hand operatives. I'm sure you're well-acquainted with them as it is."

The Black Hand was a mysterious and impenetrable group, even to someone as well-informed as Alek. The few agreed-upon facts were simple: they were a Serbian nationalist group dedicated to obtaining independence for Bosnia, they were Darwinist in nature, and they allegedly were responsible for the assassination of his mother and father. More accurately, Germany and Austria claimed that they were responsible, while he and Volger suspected that the Germans may have had a hand in the killings. His few contacts with the group while undercover with Deryn were tense and uncomfortable, giving him a not-very-positive impression of the group. Their _modus operandi_ was far too insidious for his tastes.

"I've dug around a great deal with whatever authority I could throw around. It seems that the Black Hand and the Austrian Darwinist Alliance have been working hand-in-hand for years. Rumors around the intelligence gatherers say that a certain Adrian Lehmann has become the field commander for a black operations subset of the rebellion. It seems that Serbia is financing the Black Hand to get back at Austria for the war."

"It's as if every nation wants vengeance these days," Alek commented.

"Just about, it seems."

The doors to the infirmary's waiting room opened once more, accompanied by the squeaking of wheels. Alek turned to see Lt. Jung being push along by that private from the airship. As always, he did not look very cheerful, though he appeared to have lost some of red complexion on his face.

"Volger, you're wanted in the officers' tent as soon as possible," he said. "I'm supposed to escort you, most likely because the other officers still hate my guts. And Alek?"

Of all the things that he wanted to hear now, one of the last ones would be another cynical remark from him. "Just get it over with, Jung," he hissed.

Jung was slightly taken aback by Alek's sudden acidity. "Christ, I was just going to say good job defending the hospital, and that you saved a lot of lives. You know, you're a lot more tolerable when you don't take everything so personally."

Well, it certainly beat getting browbeaten again. But, he still had some questions for the count to answer. Quietly, Alek slipped the folder into Volger's hands. "Read this as soon as you can. The Germans seem to think they can win me over to their side with it."

Volger nodded, trailing beside Jung and his escort as they left the room. Once again, the world had become a complicated place for Aleksandar. He could only hope that he could make sense of it before it decided to shift the balance once more. He would give anything to prevent another Great War. Well, anything other than Deryn or his friends and allies.

Once they had left the room, Ashton strolled back into her seat. "Those two seem like a lot of fun to be around," she sarcastically observed. "You look like you were at the receiving end of some bad news. What happened?"

Alek threw his hands in the air. "Life is more complicated than it should be, and I have no idea how to get used to all of the twists and turns it keeps throwing at me."

"Aw, don't let it get to you!" she said, reassuringly patting him on the shoulder. "Life always has its ups and downs! That's why you hope for the best and prepare for the inevitable worst. How about I try to get it your mind off of it for a little while?" She enthusiastically pulled out the copy of _Beyond Good and Evil_, grinning as she declared, "Here's a topic that always gets me thinking: the benefits and drawbacks of Judeo-Christian morality!"

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><p><strong>AN: It's baaaack!**

**Now that I have a fairly solid idea of where the story will go, I will go back to regularly updating Between Two Giants. Granted, perhaps not at the "1-2 weeks" pace that I had established for myself, but there will be updates. Phoenix Rising will take a backseat to this story…for now. Time will tell when I decide to make that my main focus. I would like to thank everyone who continued to follow this story during the hiatus. Your support means a lot to me, and it provides constant motivation to continue!**

**One point to clarify:**_** Beyond Good and Evil**_** is one of Fredrich Nietzsche's most well-known works, dealing with the topic of morality and the rejection of mainstream ethics in the Industrial Era. Although I am not a nihilist, it is a thought-provoking book to say the least. I figured it deserved a mention at some point, seeing as how Ashton is a nihilist, and it is a contemporary philosophy at the time of the books.**

**Oh, and "Neunzehn" just means "Nineteen" in German. Yes, I did not exactly go for originality when it came to this chapter's title.**


	20. A Rushed Response

**A/N: I did not expect it to take this long to write a new chapter. Sorry, everyone! I don't have any excuses or justifications for the delay, other than that I had briefly lost interest in writing this fanfic. I'm going to try to get back into it in the coming weeks. Upon retrospect, it was a smart idea to not promise any updates within a short span of time like before. Otherwise, I would feel even worse than I already do for the two-month delay.**

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><p>Chapter 20<p>

"A Rushed Response"

**December 22****nd****, 1916**

**Southern Austria**

"One hundred and eighteen…one hundred and nineteen…one hundred and twenty! They're all here, Dylan! We'll start this whenever you're ready!"

Deryn had no clue if Moira's math was right, but it really didn't seem to matter. They had so many barking chimeras at their command that the hill behind them was a sea of misplaced heads and limbs. She found that looking at the beasties made her feel off-kilter. Normally, she was fine around all sorts of fabrications, big or small. There was something about the many-headed dog-like beasties that sent a shiver down her back, though. They were tougher than they seemed, and too-barking-smart for their own good. Within a half-hour of preparing the packs of chimeras for the raid, they had mastered all of the maneuvers they would need to overtake the outpost half a kilometer away.

Moira, meanwhile, was all smiles throughout the operation. She never stopped talking about how honored she was to work alongside her, or about her early years fighting for the Austrian Darwinist Alliance. Deryn got nothing but praise and compliments from her, which grew less and less enjoyable as time went on.

Deryn turned her head towards the packs of chimeras again, only to find that Moira was right behind her, briefly startling her.

"Miss Gottschalk said that the chimeras will only begin the attack when we shoot off that special flare she made," Moira said, withdrawing a stubby pistol from her winter coat. Both she and Deryn had been given heavy coats made of fabricated wool and leather, which they had been told made it resistant to explosives. "I figured you would want to do the honors."

Deryn took the flare gun from her. "Aye, why not?"

Moira clapped her hands together at the sign of approval, wearing an unusually-not-wry grin as she crouched down beside her partner. "This is all you, Dylan. I know that we'll be walking home as heroes once the flare goes up. You're the toughest, bravest fella I've ever met!"

Though Moira was a talented lass with the beasties, Deryn was becoming fed up with her company. She wanted Alek by her side again, like it was during their time in the Air Service. The Irish lass was too supportive for her tastes. Those arguments with Alek over the daftest of things were like moments in paradise compared to the stream of compliments she had gotten lately!

Deryn tried to smile back at her, but it came out somewhere between a grin and a glare of annoyance. "I appreciate it."

"So, back in America, when you were fighting off those German commandos…"

"…Moira, please. I need a minute to think this through."

They had the numbers, she had to admit that. But the place up ahead filled with battled-hardened Clankers wasn't as much of an outpost as it was a fortress in her book. Concrete walls, barbed-wire fences encircling the area, machine guns lining every side…it was like the Sultan's palace all over again!

They had overlooked one major flaw in their defenses, though: the rocky hills leading up to the outpost did a great job of hiding any intruders. They were so big that the two of them had smuggled over a hundred beasties up to their front doors! Gottschalk had told them that the Clankers manning this post had cut down wave after wave of Darwinists in the early stages of the war using artillery and sniper fire. How long would they hold out if their enemies were too close for either of those weapons to work?

Deryn's gaze swept across the fortification, looking for any good entrances for their chimera packs. The barbed wire wasn't electrified, she knew that, but the time it would take for them to chew through it might cost them too many beasties to overrun the defenders.

She stopped at the sight of the fence around one of their power generators. All of the metal looked rusted and weak, as if a strong wind would be able to tear it apart. Deryn's heart jumped. This was where their chimeras would make their entrance.

Deryn popped open the pistol, checking if the special phosphorus flare was still there. She closed it up, aimed the gun above the power generator, clicked the hammer in place, and…

"…So, now that your thinking is done," Moira said, causing Deryn to drop the flare gun in surprise, "Mind if I ask you something?"

"Barking spiders! You daft ninny, can't you give me one minute to myself? No, of course not, because you're always shooting your barking mouth off!"

Moira recoiled from Deryn's outburst, replacing most of her frustration with feelings of guilt and regret. She sighed, wishing that she had more patience for Moira's curiosity and fascination with her. She really meant well, but showed it in a grating way.

"Moira…" She flinched and backed up slightly. Deryn quickly moved closer and placed her hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I've been feeling a bit scrambled in the attic lately, with all of this sneaking and spying I've had to do. What were you going to ask me?"

Moira looked reassured, and she said, "Well, I was curious about why you joined us. What motivated you to come all the way down from London? Did you have some grudge against the Loyalists, or were you just in the Clanker-stomping mood?"

"Why I joined you lot? Funny story, actually. It was because…"

Deryn's train of thought came to a halt. Why _did_ she join them, anyway? It couldn't have been more than a month ago, but time had dragged since then. Dr. Barlow had ordered them, she knew that, but everything else had turned vague. Alek was helping the Clankers…why was he doing that if she was helping the Darwinists?

As if a light switch flipped on in her head, Deryn remembered the reason why they were sent on opposite sides: she was supposed to be sabotaging the Darwinists and helping the Clankers, not the other way around!

Concern and worry overtook her. She had helped out the Darwinist rebels quite a bit since their failed offensive at Lienz. What if one of those Clankers she had knocked out, threatened at gunpoint, or blasted with electricity had been Alek? She could never tell Clanker soldiers apart, especially when they wore those gas masks. Then, another chilling thought came, far more unnerving than its predecessors.

What if Alek was stationed in that outpost?

"I-I guess I thought you all needed a hand. Look, Moira, we need to pull back right now." She told herself to stay calm. If Moira thought she was panicking, she might just think she had lost her nerves, then take over the mission herself. Best to keep a level head and make out the Clankers to be bigger threats than they seem.

"Wait, what for? Everything's in order, just as we planned!"

"Can't you see their defenses? They've got the upper hand, and we can't risk getting captured if this goes bad."

Every second gave her a wee bit of hope. But, if Alek was in there, he would likely get torn apart by the chimeras. He had fought off two at once before, but he was probably recovering from those nasty wounds she had treated. He would never survive three or four at once, especially if he was injured!

"But Dylan, you told me yourself that they wouldn't hold out if we attacked at close range!" Moira almost sounded confrontational. _Almost_, Deryn noted, not exactly confrontational.

"I was wrong, alright? Come on, we need to move before the Clankers catch wind of the beasties around their base!"

Moira would not budge. She stood beside the alpha chimera in the pack, arms crossed. "Dylan, I know what's going on here."

That, more than anything else, made her start to panic. Could she mean...no, that was impossible. "Not sure if I'm following you right, Moira."

"What, you don't think I've noticed? The long pauses you make whenever you talk about your past? The stoicism, the protectiveness? I get it."

"What are you blithering on about?"

"How can you play dumb at a time like this? You're willing to scrap an entire mission for my safety, but too scared to admit the truth?"

Had she caught on to her secret? What had given her away? She acted exactly the way she did aboard the _Leviathan_, right down to the boyish posture! Maybe Moira was craftier than she looked…regardless, Deryn had a serious problem on her hands. How could she lie her way out of this one?

As Deryn remained silent, Moira stepped closer. "What, you're having me make the first move? You're a progressive one, Sharp, I'll give you that."

In that instant, Moira's lips crashed against hers, giving her the sloppiest, wettest kiss she had ever received, her arms wrapped around Deryn's neck.

A startled yelp escaped from Deryn's mouth as she pushed her companion away. She wiped her lips off repeatedly, looking back at Moira in disbelief. Did she barking _kiss_ her?

"Too messy? Sorry, I don't have too much experience in the snogging field."

"You just kissed me!" Deryn shouted, forgetting that they were right next to a fortress filled with paranoid, well-armed Clankers.

Moira shrugged. "That tends to happen when a guy flirts with a lass who's interested in him for too long."

"You think…" she stopped talking, letting what she said soak in. "Wait…you said you're interested in me?"

Of course. Jaspert had warned her that, sooner or later, her disguise would backfire just like it was now. So, not only was she a fetching sight for boys like Alek, but girls like Moira as well? Deryn wanted to scream. It was just like that Shakespeare play her ma made her read all those years ago.

"Do you want me to go into detail about it?" When Deryn didn't respond, she continued. "Like I've said, you're the bravest boy I've ever met. And the smartest. Not to mention the handsomest or strongest. To top it off, you actually care about what I say! Most plonkers would ignore me, but you listen to me!"

It was too much for Deryn to hear. She didn't know what to say, what with Moira looking bright and cheery and waiting for her approval. She did like her, but had never even considered anything more than that. Her heart would always belong to Alek, no matter what happened to them. Moira was in love with Dylan, the war hero, not Deryn, the headstrong and sensitive girl underneath all of that glory.

There wasn't as much at stake as there was in the Air Service. Moira could know that she was a girl, and not much would come of it. Unless, of course, Gottschalk took the sneakiness as a sign that she couldn't be trusted. What would she do if she figured out that her trusted Zoological Society agent had been lying to her about something as important as that?

Spilling her secret to Moira was too much of a risk. If she blabbed it to anyone else, word might spread, and the Darwinists might trust her less. That meant breaking the poor lass's heart.

"Moira, you have to understand: I can't be with you! I don't even like you as much as you think!"

With that, Moira's gushing over Deryn's positive qualities stopped. "Why not?" she asked, all hints of gleeful joy dropping from her. She knew her words were poorly-chosen, but she could do nothing about that now.

"It's because I have a barking boy-I mean girlfriend, that's why!" Deryn looked out towards the sunset, avoiding contact with Moira. "She and I have been together for two years, and she means the world to me. It means a lot that you like me so much, but I can't feel the same way about you. I'm truly sorry."

Turning back, Deryn found Moira completely heartbroken and verging on tears. Guilt washed over her as she tried to console her, gently reaching her arm out to the lovesick Irish girl.

Instead of taking her hand, Moira looked down, fists clenching and nose sniffling. "Y-you should have told me that f-from the start," she softly told Deryn. "Y-you practically led me along th-this past month."

"I never wanted to hurt you, Moira."

Moira wiped her nose. "Aye, just stop, please." Reaching down, she picked up the flare gun, and fired it towards the outpost before Deryn could intervene.

In that moment, all hell broke loose. Over a hundred bloodthirsty chimera fabs charged at a weak point in the outpost's fencing, easily chewing through the metal while its defenders desperately ran to their stations in an effort to drive off the swarm of beasties.

Deryn grabbed Moira and pushed them both down, huddled together as bullets whizzed over their heads and in every direction imaginable. Deryn lifted her head to see the machine gunners blindly firing wherever any sort of movement was happening, cutting down both friend and foe alike.

The sound of gunshots gradually became overpowered by the screams of the Clankers and barks of the chimeras. Deryn watched as the Clankers hopelessly fired into the crowd of beasties, who weaved in and out of cover as they leaped over barricades and their fallen brothers on the way to their enemies. She hoped and prayed that Alek wouldn't be trapped in that slaughterhouse. They had picked a night when the walkers would be out on patrol, making the base extremely vulnerable to rushes such as this.

Eventually, as the last Clankers were taken down by the significantly-smaller packs of chimeras, the night became silent again. Moira slipped out of Deryn's grip and tossed aside the flare gun.

They had won, but Deryn felt hollow on the inside.

Moira whistled to the beasties, who eagerly ran to their master with blood-covered faces. Moira casually petted the alpha among the pack, giving each of its four heads equal affection.

Deryn heard the rumbling of Stormwalkers in the distance.

"Moira," she said with a new sense of urgency, "we need to get going. The walkers will be here any minute!"

Moira didn't look back at her, instead gathering the chimeras behind her. "Don't worry," she muttered, coldness creeping into her tone, "I know how to do my job. We'll take the lower paths, just like last time."

She strode past her, leading the crowd of two dozen chimeras behind her towards the setting sun. Deryn followed behind Moira with a growing sense of dread and uncertainty. She silently prayed that Alek had the good fortune not to be among their victims.


	21. Leaking Ship

**A/N: You know, I had told myself back in July that I should do a Christmas-themed chapter if I ever got close to that time of year. I never thought I would end up doing it, to be honest.**

**Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of this fanfic's readers! Here's hoping that 2015 will be a good year.**

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><p>Chapter 21<p>

"Leaking Ship"

**Zoological Society of London, British Empire**

**December 24****th****, 1916**

As part of its public relations campaign to get younger children interested in Darwinism, the Zoological Society of London was open on Christmas Eve with heavily-discounted admission. Dr. Barlow's reasoning behind her support for this program was simple: the earlier they started a child's interest in Darwinism, the less likely he or she would be to become a Clanker later in life. With the war in Austria, the instability of Russian, and the fears that Germany was rebuilding its army discretely, she surmised that they would need all of the support they could get in the future. The Council voted in favor of her proposal, then immediately told her that she would have to spend Christmas Eve monitoring it herself while they took paid vacations.

This was the reason why she was out in the cold, explaining the science behind life chains to bundled-up eight-year olds accompanied by indifferent adults. While the staff was cut down to a half of its normal size during this time, the remaining boffins were encouraged to move around the zoo and interior facilities to answer any questions and talk up the accomplishments of Darwinism.

"…And, on your left, you'll see a hydrogen sniffer," she said, pointing towards the large cage accommodating several older fabrications. "These fabrications were some of the first ever hatched by my grandfather. You'll see them all around airbeasts, since it's their job to sniff out hydrogen leaks. Hence, the name hydrogen sniffer!"

A few children went, "Ooh," or clapped their hands. The rest of the crowd was busy shivering, whispering to each other, or staring off in other directions.

She didn't entirely blame them for their inattentiveness. Most of these people already knew what a hydrogen sniffer was. Also, not only was it a grey, chilly afternoon in London, but the snowfall from the previous night hadn't been completely cleared off of the tour's path. So, what was supposed to be a colorful array of information boards and exotic caged fabrications turned out to be a white-and-grey walking tour with snow-covered boards and most of the "exciting" fabrications inside for their safekeeping. It was like going to the zoo to see an elephant or tiger, only to find that both of their exhibits have been replaced with garden snake exhibits.

One of the little girls in front raised her hand. "Yes, do you have question?" Dr. Barlow asked, grateful that someone might have been paying attention to her.

The girl lowered her arm. "Where do the hydrogen sniffers come from?"

"Eggs, actually. Large eggs that we engineer in the Zoological Society's Interior Laboratories."

"Will we get to see that?" a boy next to her asked.

"Unfortunately, no. The fabricating process is very gradual and complex, and we can't allow people to potentially interfere until it is complete." Of course, that was a lie: the true reason was that they did not want any Clanker spies to know how they made military-grade fabrications such as message lizards or strafing hawks.

Another boy accompanied by his mother raised his hand. "My da told us that beasties are insults to God and man, and that they have demon souls."

Dr. Barlow maintained her cheery exterior while deeply desiring to choke some sense into that boy's father. "I'm afraid that your father is mistaken, dear. Fabrications are not some devilish creations, but the backbone of our Empire as well! Thanks to them, our industrial and military power is at an all-time high, and we have a higher standard of living! They aren't ungodly abominations, take my word for it."

The boy nodded, no doubt intending to parrot those words to his father without realizing what sort of argument that would create. Once again, though, the rest of the crowd seemed to be in another world. Thankfully, she came prepared for this.

"Not only that, but they're utterly adorable!" she said, wishing she didn't have to use phrases like "utterly adorable" to pander to the children.

She pulled Bovril out from within her winter coat, holding him out to the excited crowd of children. Bovril, who had been enjoying the warmth, shivered and shook its head at her, all while the children shuffled forward to pet the odd-looking yet cute creature.

"Its name is Bovril," she said, "and it is one of our most intelligent fabrications. It can understand and speak English, just like you and I. Right, Bovril?"

The fabrication blinked, shook its hands, and said, "Barking spiders," in front of the crowd.

Blushing with embarrassment, she immediately pulled it back from the laughing children and flustered parents. Turning her back to the crowd, she glared at Bovril, who attempted to look as innocent as possible.

"Not one word out of your mouth until this tour is over, or I'll swear I'll drop you in the leech cage when we get back."

Bovril quickly crawled back into her coat's inner compartments, no doubt recognizing the seriousness behind her threat. Dr. Barlow turned towards the crowd, all smiles once more.

"My apologies. It would seem that it picked up quite the sailor's mouth since I spoke with it last." Again, another lie. It had learned to swear from the Scottish girl years ago. She had coached him to say anything _other_ than an option from Deryn's vocabulary. Since it had done the exact opposite in other attempts, she wondered if reverse psychology would be necessary to make the loris perform an action on command. She would have to test that further when she had more time.

"Now, if you all would follow me, we will reach the final point in our tour, where you will see one of the grandest fabrications ever birthed: a fully-grown Russian war bear, on loan from the Romanov royal family themselves!" That seemed to get the crowd's attention. "Yes, this massive, powerful fabrication was made to withstand the worst winter conditions, and carry thousands of pounds at a time! It truly is the pinnacle of modern Darwinist fabrication methods!"

She thought that the last claim was an overstatement, but the contract with the Romanovs obliged her to use those exact words to describe it to audiences. For better or worse, she had to downplay the usefulness of her smaller, more productive fabrications to promote the attention-grabbing, resource-sapping war bear.

A woman from the back of the crowd edged her way to the front. "Has the Zoological Society ever fabricated a war bear, or do you leave that to the Russians?" she asked, her voice raspy and accented.

"Sadly, only Russian Darwinists know the right combination of life chains to fabricate that sort of creature. For now…" Her lecture slowed to a halt upon getting a better view of the woman.

She was wearing an odd overcoat, which seemed to be sown together from several conflicting styles of Clanker military clothing. Her accent sounded Germanic in tone, and rather youthful if it weren't for the raspiness of it. What caught her attention was the woman's face: one eye was blinded with a scar running down her eyelids, and a burn scar ran along the other side of her face.

Gottschalk was here.

"…For now," she continued, "We will leave that in the hands of Russian Darwinists."

"So, what you're saying is that you don't have the capabilities to fabricate something that complex?"

"I never said that." Annoyance was creeping into her voice. "We have attempted to make fabrications like them, but we found it much more viable to focus on fabrications capable of flight."

"So you say…" Gottschalk smiled coolly at her. "But, I'm not the guide here. Continue on as if I haven't said anything," she said, shooting her a look that said, "because you've done such a good job of that in the past."

"No, I appreciate all of your questions! I'm glad you're curious about this, ma'am."

Dr. Barlow led them on to the massive enclosure for the war bear. Much to her dismay, it had fallen asleep, rendering its usual antics of chasing down food and bellowing ferociously a moot point. In that state, it was nothing more than a massed ton of fur that snored once in a while. She was tempted to throw a stick at it to wake it up, but in these conditions, the poor creature deserved a rest.

"Dreadfully sorry, everyone. I had hoped that Reznov here was going to be awake for our tour, but as you can see, he's fast asleep. The gift shop is open if anyone is interested in a late Christmas gift, and our boffins should be around the zoo if you need any other questions answered. It has been a pleasure…"

The crowd, save for the inquisitive children, had turned their attention to Gottschalk, whom someone must have recognized from the news reports of the civil war. They peppered her with praise and questions, wondering when Austria would become Darwinist territory or if she would assist with an invasion of Germany when she kicked the Clankers out of Austria. She happily returned their questions with neutral responses, saying that the war may take another year and that reconstruction would have to occur before an invasion would be approved by her.

"Dr. Barlow?" the Monkey Luddite boy asked her. "Who's that?"

"A very unscrupulous woman," she muttered, "who desperately wishes to avenge her family on the children and allies of those who harmed them."

"Is she friendly?"

"That depends entirely on what mood you find her in."

Just as the boy left her, Gottschalk waded through the crowd to her side. The two women, despite their common interests in promoting Darwinism and making fabrications, did not face each other. Instead, they stood side by side, neither one turning to look at her reluctant companion.

Gottschalk was the first to speak up. "I suppose it's obvious, but I came here to do more than put you on the spot."

"And why, exactly, are you here?"

"To give you an idea of my progress, and to make something very clear to you. Salzburg will be our next target, and unlike Lienz, we will succeed in taking it back from the Clankers. You see…"

Out of the corner of her eye, Dr. Barlow could see that Gottschalk was smiling. "I've developed a serious advancement in anti-armor fabrications. These fabs will render their walkers useless if I can deploy them in time…and, I assure you, I will."

Gottschalk sounded confident, but Dr. Barlow could never tell how much of her outward persona was genuine and how much was for show. "And what do you need to make clear to me, aside from the fact that you still hold a grudge against me."

Her smile dropped, no doubt from the memories of their previous, unpleasant encounters. "I appreciate how you brought Sharp over to the cause, but I do not appreciate being lied to about the people working for me."

A twitch of nervousness fluttered in her stomach. Had she figured out her scheme already? "You will have to be more specific than that, Miss Gottschalk," she said, her face failing to betray her growing state of concern.

"You told me that I was receiving a Mr. Dylan Sharp, but my inner circle and I have dug into your agent's history, and it turns out that I got a Ms. Deryn Sharp instead. Care to explain why you lied to me?"

If Dr. Barlow were a different sort of women, she would have breathed a sigh of relief. But, stoic as always, she said, "Ms. Sharp is very sensitive about her gender, so I tend not to publicize that sort of information. Sadly, her opportunities are limited by how long she can convince the world that she is a boy."

"A damn shame. She deserves better than that." Gottschalk paused. "We deserve better. Both of us do."

If it were any other woman talking to her, she might have agreed and talked about her belief in women's solidarity. However, she was trying to sabotage the efforts this particular one, which would make her feel hypocritical for supporting such a belief now.

"In what way?" Dr. Barlow asked, feigning ignorance.

"I mean, in general! Both of us have been pushed around, belittled, and held back because of who we are." Gottschalk quivered with emotion. "We're just as good, if not better, than the men who consider us inferior. If I can win in Austria, Barlow…think about what that will do for the rights of women! Europe's leaders will look at my victory and think, 'If a woman can overthrow a Clanker state, then who knows what else they could be capable of!' I could change the world!"

It was almost sad to hear her. So much of Gottschalk reminded Dr. Barlow of herself early on at the Zoological Society: brash, headstrong, yet capable and endlessly creative. If she wasn't so unstable, she might consider taking her on as another protégé. The woman had true talent, something that she could never deny.

"And that's why, my dear, I sent Agent Sharp your way. She will steer Austria towards a stable, prosperous future."

Gottschalk nodded. "Thank you, Barlow. You don't know how much this means to me. I mean, ever since you rejected my application for the Society, I thought…I thought you hated me. But…I was wrong." She smiled, and quietly added, "Thank you for proving me wrong."

As a token of perceived goodwill, Dr. Barlow shook her hand and bid her a safe trip home, leaving her alone with a few stragglers from her tour and the perspicacious loris in her coat. She hoped that Deryn would have the sense to keep her head low and avoid anything too risky, but knew that the idea was ridiculous. The girl thrived on taking risks. If she didn't, then they never would have met in the first place. It was hard to picture her as a complacent, ordinary girl, and for that she admired her.

One of the men beside her coughed loudly. "Ehm…you're Barlow, aye?" the apparently-Scottish older boy asked her.

"Yes, that is correct." She gave him a quick glance-over; nothing stood out in particular. He was of tall height, had reddish-brown hair, and stood with stature of an Air Service soldier. "And you are?"

"Oh – sorry about that, forgot, we never met. I've heard a lot about you, though." He extended his hand. "Jaspert Sharp. I'm Deryn's brother."

She shook his hand, saying, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person as well, Mr. Sharp." It felt odd to say that phrase in a non-sarcastic manner. "Your sister has told me much about you too. Some of her favorite descriptions of you are…let me think…bum-rag, clart-head, and obnoxious ninny to name a few. Would you consider any of those to be accurate?"

Jaspert's ears flushed red. "Well-ma'am, you know how it is. Brother-sister rivalries and all that." He cleared his throat again. "I actually came here to talk to you about Deryn. You see…our ma, she's real worried about her. I tried to tell her that she was alright, but even I don't know where the clart she is. I know that her job takes some amount of hush-hush to work, but I just need some way to make our ma sleep a little easier."

Zoological Society protocols were very clear on how to handle classified jobs: no information is to be leaked into the public whatsoever for a bare minimum of ten years after the operation's completion. Failure to comply by these laws could get one brought before a military tribunal or thrown into a cramped cell for an unspecified amount of time. In short, sentimentality is highly discouraged by the higher-ups within the Society, and senior officials like herself followed these rules to the point.

On the other hand, it was almost Christmas. She could afford to let a concerned brother and widowed mother know that one of their own was alright.

"You and Mrs. Sharp have nothing to lose sleep over. Currently, Deryn is safe, and although I cannot disclose where she is now, I know that she will survive her overseas ordeal and return home."

She was tempted to give him more information, but by the off-chance this was a Clanker agent with a convincing accent, she had to be vague on details.

Regardless, Jaspert seemed happy with the news. "That's great news! I'll be sure to tell our ma that Deryn's doing well. If you see her again, could you let her know that the _Minotaur_ will be shipping out in a few weeks, and that I hope she's doing alright?"

"When I get the chance, I will relay your message to Deryn. I know she will appreciate it."

"Oh, and one more thing…" Jaspert sighed, as if whatever he was going to say next was coming reluctantly, "tell Alek that I hope all is well with him, too."

In the distance, a bell tower chimed five times. Dr. Barlow sighed, knowing that her time with Alan tonight was going to be even shorter than they had hoped. She had no doubts that most of the closing-up duties would be left to her.

"All should be well with Alek, too. I can understand how you find faults in him, but he is a smart, level-headed boy. Unless he goes out of his way to act heroic, he should stay out of trouble."


	22. Peacemakers

Chapter 22

"Peacemakers"

**Outside of Vienna, Austria**

**January 4****th****, 1917**

With Alek's injuries fully healed, he was discharged from the hospital by the end of the year. As he had discovered, the Austrian military had lost its momentum from their unintentional destruction of Lienz, which left a great number of Clanker soldiers wandering aimlessly while the officers twiddled their thumbs. They were too afraid of self-inflicted damage, he had been told. For now, their strategy was to hold their positions and wait for some sort of weakness in the Austrian Darwinists' defenses to form.

"Which, of course, it never will!" Jung said, sipping from another ration of beer. "Gottschalk is many things, but an idiot isn't one of them. She's got something up her sleeve, and unless the brass acts quickly, she'll be catching us off-guard again!"

He was sitting with Boesch and Ashton at a makeshift table, and everyone but him was taking advantage of the bonus rations of alcohol for the day. Alek would have joined in their drinking, but alcohol of any kind made his stomach turn. He had learned this the hard way as a twelve-year-old, where an accidental sip of champagne caused him to gag and nearly retch the contents of his stomach in front of an affluent noble couple. He could live with abstaining from drink and simply talking with them.

"So, tell me, Lieutenant," Ashton asked him, "what's your fantastical plan for fighting off the Darwinists?"

"Never thought you would ask! The fact is, it's like my uncle said: the Darwinists aren't fond of each other, but they hate us more than they hate each other. As long as they have a common enemy to fight, they will stand united. What we need to do is turn them against themselves!"

Alek was making a mental note of everything Jung said. He doubted that the lieutenant would get into an influential position anytime soon, but his words had some truth to them. The Germans had tried to play up the pre-war tensions between certain Darwinist nations during the conflict. What if they tried again, using vulnerable states like Russia and Mexico to draw attention away from whatever they were planning?

"Again, how would you do that? If some _Dummkopf_ slips up and gives you a promotion, what would you do to fracture their alliance?"

Jung laughed, his cheeks red from the partial drunkenness he was experiencing. "Simple! Gottschalk has only lasted this long through support from other Darwinist nations. By distracting them, her rebellion will slowly fall apart. First, we prop up the Bolsheviks in Russia, since they're Clankers and the Darwinist Royalists are losing ground. Then, we start reminding Italy of how badly they were cheated out of land the Darwinists promised them in the war. If those two start working, I would saddle up close to Japan and start convincing them that China should belong to them."

Ashton clapped her hands together enthusiastically, spilling the contents of her can on both her and Boesch. He scooted his chair away uncomfortably from her, wiping his pants off with a handkerchief.

"That is – that is just perfect!" Ashton said. "I love it! Watching those Darwinist sods tear into each other all over again. It's beautiful, it's perfect. After everything they put my family through, I can't feel sorry for them in the slightest."

Thinking back to his time as a devout Clanker, Alek wondered if he would have ended up like this if the Germans hadn't killed his parents. Would he be cheering on the destruction of Darwinists alongside Clanker soldiers, drinking tepid cans of beer and conversing with them in an overconfident tone?

It didn't matter to him. His loyalties were with Volger, Deryn and Dr. Barlow; and to a lesser extent, the Zoological Society and the British Empire.

Boesch softly tapped his elbow. "Alek, what does 'sod' mean?"

"Believe me, you do not want to know."

Alek watched him shift back in his seat, confused and almost out-of-place next to the two boisterous individuals carrying on a conversation next to him. Boesch just seemed too sensitive for this sort of place, not that Alek was any more at home hearing his friends get indirectly badmouthed by a vengeful English expatriate and an irate Austrian lieutenant.

Jung pushed away the remainder of his drink. "I think," he said, hiccupping every so often, "we need to break the news to the 'prince' here. Don't want his spirits getting too high, eh?"

"What do you mean?" Alek asked, unsure if anything good was going to occur, or if he was going to be trapped in a run of bad luck.

"General Rothschild took notice of your quick thinking at Lienz. Instead of shipping you off to some other engineering job, he wants your help negotiating with a subordinate of Gottschalk's looking to surrender!" Jung scowled as he added, "I doubt he can be trusted."

"Last time I trusted a Darwinist," Ashton mused, "I ended up going home from school with empty pockets and a black eye. I'm with Jung here, this is probably a waste of time. They're an untrustworthy people."

Alek was growing fed up with their vitriolic comments. "How does that tell any of you if this man can be trusted? I understand that you all suffered at their hands, but the Darwinists aren't some evil psychopaths! I used to think that, and you know what? They're just like you and me, except they make fabrications instead of machines!"

"I agree with Alek," Boesch said. "Not all Darwinists hate us. If we continue to treat them with scorn, what reason will they have to act any other way as well?"

"They already treat us like dirt!" Ashton shouted. Her face had gotten red, though Alek couldn't tell if it was from some kind of frustration or from mere intoxication. "Even less than that, if you ask me! All the Darwinists ever do is push us around and try to cripple us!"

"But you all did the same to them!" Alek shot back. He had to keep a level head. Losing his patience with some of the few people he could trust was a recipe for disaster. "The Austrian Darwinist Alliance didn't revolt because they wanted to; they did it because they were getting abused unendingly!"

"And they deserve it!" she yelled, quivering with a raw anger he hadn't seen in anyone since Deryn. "They deserve every ounce of hatred we give them! From the beginning, the Darwinists wanted to take away our strength and prosperity! They're a conniving, evil lot, and every last one of them has a hand in starting this bloody war!"

Alek opened his mouth, about to tell her that she couldn't talk about Deryn that way, then relented. He tried to calm himself down. "The Germans started this nonsense when they killed my parents, and yet Austria continued to follow them. The Darwinists had no hand in this war or the last."

"And where did you hear this from, exactly? The Darwinists? Yes, I'm positive that is what they _want_ you to believe. Alek, your folks were killed by Serbian radicals! The same radicals who, I should note, are helping Gottschalk tear Austria apart!"

Every sensible part of his mind told him to back off. Arguing with one's allies is a finicky business by itself, but arguing with drunken ones is even more dangerous. In his current state he couldn't afford to make enemies, and all he would do by continuing to talk is open old wounds. No, the rational option would be to sit down and stay quiet.

Unfortunately, Alek was not thinking rationally at the time.

"I figured that out on my own! And, do you know what else I figured out on my own? That my granduncle, the Emperor, was willing to let me die as a token of goodwill to the Clankers. You should be grateful I'm back here at all!"

Ashton kicked her chair aside. "'You should be grateful?' Is that how you feel about us?"

Boesch backed into the corner, keeping his distance and looking rather frightful. Jung chuckled to himself throughout the ordeal, cheering them on as if their argument was some sort of competition. Alek clenched his fists and stood firm as Ashton approached him.

"What, are we just grunts to you?" She was barely a foot away from him. Alek stood his ground, though his heart was racing. "Just some lives to throw away so you can reclaim some of your precious glory? Well, I'd hate to disappoint you, _your highness_, but I don't take orders from some smug, spoiled traitor who's somehow less masculine than I am!"

His stomach burned with anger, internally raging at the insults that had landed direct hits at his all-important pride. Some remote part of his brain insisted that Ashton deserved to be struck for her disrespect towards both him and his Darwinist allies. He seethed, his hands shook, all a response to the tongue-lashing he had just received. She could not get away with treating him and his friends like this.

A hand roughly grabbed his shoulder from behind him, pulling him out of the tent and whirling him around. Alek recoiled back, startled. In front of him was Count Volger, who seemed to be in even less of a pleasant mood than usual.

"Excellent work on winning allies, Aleksandar," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He dragged Alek further away from the tent and the bored soldiers eagerly listening in on the argument from the outside. "Arguing with drunks? Nearly getting into fights with vengeful Clankers? I think you may have won them over with your latest spectacle."

Alek angrily brushed aside Volger's hand. "She insulted Deryn and Dr. Barlow," he muttered, already regretting his hot-headed actions in the tent.

"So I heard. And, quite frankly, I am amazed that you took everything the woman said to heart. Keeping in mind her 'eventful' history with Darwinists, trying to convince her that they all aren't evil is a fruitless task."

The solitary, quiet atmosphere of the base made him feel even more uncomfortable with his outbursts. It was as if he was a spoiled child, coming out of a toy store empty-handed even after whining to his family. He almost wanted to get back in his cot and go to sleep, imagining that it all never happened.

Alek sighed. "I need to work on my level-headedness. Ashton probably hates me, Jung already doesn't like me, and who knows how Boesch feels."

"You'll still have Ms. Sharp to support you once this ends. Mark my words, though, Ashton will apologize to you first. As for Lt. Jung…his resentment of you most likely stems from those amputations of his."

Alek stopped moving. "Why would he be angry at me over his amputations?"

The count grew a sad, melancholic smile. "They are your fault, after all. Well, I suppose they could be all of our faults, Klopp and Bauer included."

Volger's cryptic remarks only confused him further. He had done something to the lieutenant during his time on the _Leviathan_? But, they had rarely engaged Austrian soldiers during its travels! Even then, the injuries they received were likely to cause more impalements than severed limbs. How far down did this rabbit hole go?

"I should explain this, since it is a recent discovery for me as well. I looked through his medical records on a whim, and found a critical injury report about an explosive round that engulfed a sizeable portion of his body in flames. As it turns out, this occurred in the late summer of 1914, during a routine cavalry patrol that encountered a rogue Stormwalker."

The realization hit Alek like a swarm of strafing hawks. "So, that warning shot I fired to scatter those horsemen…"

"…Struck our dear friend Jung, ending his hopes of moving up in the ranks of the cavalry, and creating an inextinguishable resentment of you on the way." He lightly laughed, as if this were some sort of humorous joke.

"That…" Alek was at a loss for words. "That explains quite a lot." He cleared his throat, and said, "He said I was going to take part in some sort of negotiations with an Austrian Darwinist leader."

Volger nodded, as he reached into his coat. "You and I, along with some other loyalist personnel, will be meeting with this man in a secure location in Salzburg. He and his militants wish to defect to the Clankers without Gottschalk noticing. We need to convince him that his fighters will not be persecuted for their histories with the Austrian Darwinist Alliance, and that they will receive a full pardon once the war ends."

Oddly enough, this news made Alek feel much better. For once, he could go about saving lives instead of ending them. It would be like working with Tesla all over again, except he would be peddling genuine peace, and not subtly-threatening nations with a deadly superweapon. This was what he had hoped to do all along: become a peacemaker, and end the war without drawing even more blood than before.

Volger retrieved a large clump of papers from his coat, and bent them back to even out the existing folds that had formed. "I read through the documents that Colonel Dietrich sent you regarding your parents."

That got Alek's attention quickly. "And? What did they say?"

He handed the papers to Alek, as if they were some trash in need of throwing away. "Take a look for yourself," he said.

Alek flipped through the pages, steadily reading through the notes, engrossed on every line of every page. He read back and forth voraciously, absorbing every piece of information he could. When he finished, he lowered the papers, and came to one conclusion.

"This doesn't tell us anything!" he shouted in frustration.

Words, lines, and entire paragraphs were blacked out, cut out, and utterly erased from every document in the cluster. Everything, from German communications regarding Austria, to notes sent between German and Austrian officers, to a few intercepted notes sent by his father, were censored in some way, shape or form. The worst offender was a letter from his father to his mother, which started with the words, "Dear Sophia," and had everything but the closing of, "I yearn for you tragically," cut-out from the paper itself.

"This note was left in the bundle," Volger said, giving Alek a small square of brown paper that appeared to be torn from an envelope. A short message was scrawled onto it, reading, "Aleksandar – I have a job that only someone with your skillset can pull off. If you help me, I will fill in all those blanks in the documents. –Dietrich"

Alek scoffed. "He truly is desperate to win me over, isn't he?"

"Perhaps he believes he can 'save' you from your service to the Darwinists. Some of the Germans you encountered in your duties so far have held similar ideas to this colonel, have they not?"

"Saving" him? The entire idea was laughable. The Germans had spent an entire year trying to hunt him down, and now they were going to act morally-superior and pretend to care about him? He had been scorned by his homeland and the people he thought he was allied with. The Darwinists had saved him, and most of the Clankers had tried to end his life. Life had changed since then, but the Darwinists continued to aid him, while the Clankers he encountered gave him mixed responses.

The only saving that would go on would be of Austria. His home needed a hero, and he was in the right place to become one. He was going to stop this mad war, one way or another.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: How many times have I apologized for releasing chapters later than expected? Three, four times? Either way, I'm sorry about the tardiness of this one. I've been working on several projects of my own, and I kept forgetting to finish off this chapter. I can partially blame my reading habit for the delay, since I became interested in the _Mortal Engines_ books over the Christmas season. Ironically enough, it was my frustration with _Infernal Devices_ that led me to complete this chapter.**

**So, this chapter finally answers a few questions I had intended to resolve for some time now! The truth about Jung was supposed to be present as early as Chapter 6, but it never panned out as well as I hoped it would, forcing me to shelve it until I could reveal it in a decent, realistic manner. Also, Ashton is the anti-Gottschalk, hating Darwinists with a fiery, xenophobic zeal! ...Yay?**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter, where everything inevitably goes downhill for Alek & Co!**


	23. Servare Vitas

Chapter 23

"Servare Vitas"

**Salzburg, Austria**

**January 18****th****, 1917**

Deryn ran.

She ran until her legs felt like lead weights, until her breathing became ragged and shallow, until she felt like she was going to double over. She kept running, ignoring every complaint her body threw at her, dodging and weaving around the confused Austrian bystanders she sped by. Why did the streets in Salzburg have to be so barking crowded, anyway?

"That daft ninny," she muttered, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with a pair of Clanker policemen. "That idiot prince…is he out of his barking mind? Trying to talk peace during a barking siege? It's insane!"

She had to remember what the building looked like, the one that Alek was supposedly going to be in. Moira and the other Darwinists had pictures of that scattered all over the place, laid out in preparation for whatever it was they were planning. She had tried to warn the Clankers ahead of time, but she doubted they had the time to prepare any additional defenses. It was down to her to save her pretentious, lovely prince.

Hopefully, Moira wouldn't wise up to the fact that her decision to "scout out the area" meant "deserting you lot for my Clanker boyfriend."

People were starting to stare at her. As she passed some, she heard hushed whispers that questioned who she was and what she was doing. A few times, cries of _"Polizei!"_ would echo as she sprinted by concerned Clankers. Her time was running short, she knew that much.

It didn't matter in the slightest. All that mattered was warning Alek and getting him to safety.

As she passed a garrison of engineers, she started to recognize the landmarks around the city. She was getting closer, closer…

A bullet whizzed by her side. Panicking, she picked up her pace to a dead sprint, ignoring the rapid beats of her heart and the periodic gunshots going off behind her.

Up ahead stood an older-looking brick building, untouched by the civil war and the damage it caused. She thought back to the photos that she had been shown. The ivy on the right side, the grey rooftop, the three floors…this was it. Narrowly avoiding another bullet, she dashed to the front door and kicked it open.

The Clankers inside were too startled to react, giving her the time to continue running down the hallway and up the stairs. Behind her, someone shouted in German, "Darwinist agent! Don't let him get to the conference room!"

Deryn could barely breathe as she ascended the staircase. She was so exhausted that her chest was aching, though that could have been a result of the bindings around her diddies. As soon as she reached the top, she realized that she had officially run out of energy. Out of breath, she quickly walked down, then to the right hallway, and finally to the closed metal door that signified the conference room.

"Alek!" she shouted, pushing open the door to a crowd of shocked faces. She scanned the crowd, feeling a sense of relief once she saw that he was still there. One of the men had purple marks on his face, as if he had been recently-bruised. "Alek, you have to get out of here!"

Alek was holding a worm-like beastie between his fingers. He looked at her as if she was some sort of ghost. "Der-Dylan? What are you doing here?"

Her arms were roughly grabbed from behind her. She struggled, slipping out of the soldiers' grips with a well-placed elbow to their guts. Time was not on her side, and she had to get him as far away from here as possible. "You all have to get out of here, now!" she said, moving away from the Clanker soldiers who were now aiming Mauser pistols at her. "The rebels are going to start their attack any minute now!"

"We have already figured that out, _Mr_. Sharp," Volger said. "Is there anything else you would like to contribute to the conversation?"

Volger, always the barking bum-rag when you didn't need him to be. "You can't win this fight. They've got you outnumbered and outgunned! I have to get you out of here, Alek!"

"But, Dylan, it's my duty to fight alongside these people! What makes this any different?"

Her heartbeat finally level, she took a deep breath. This was not going to be easy to explain to him.

"That's what she _wants_ you to do! She's counting on you to fight here, so that way, once you get overrun, she'll have you right where she wants you!"

"So, what does Gottschalk want with me?" Alek asked, handing the worm to some wide-eyed Clanker in a medic's uniform.

"She's sent a bunch of Black Hand bum-rags to capture you! She's ordered everyone attacking Salzburg to get you back to her alive. She told me she has special plans for you…"

* * *

><p><strong>Ten Minutes Earlier<strong>

If Alek could look up to Heaven, he was certain his mother and father would be smiling down on him. For once, he was going to fulfill his parents' legacy, without any bloodshed or violence.

"Alright, everyone on their best behavior," Volger ordered. "The Darwinists are being escorted up the stairs as we speak."

The conference room was nothing fancy or even welcoming. Faded green walls, an unkempt wooden floor, and the dirtiness of their table gave the room an unprofessional, discourteous appearance. Volger sat between him and Jung, who was managing the impressive task of attaching a cheap prosthetic leg to his stump while fiddling with their radio. Boesch, who had been assigned to their detail on Alek's request, stood in the corner, awkwardly shuffling his feet.

The radio crackled to life. "Alek…" Ashton's voice repeated several time, louder with each repetition. "Alek, can you hear me?"

The footsteps outside of their room were drawing closer each second. "You're coming through, Ashton. We can hear you."

"Good. You should have this under control. If anything goes wrong, send word to me. I'll let Mannheim know that the walkers need to be scrambled to your location." She sighed, then said, "And Alek? I wasn't in the best state of mind a couple of weeks ago. All of the losses…and the defeats. It got to me, and I said some things that I've been regretting. I'm sorry."

Volger shot him a look that said, "I told you so." Alek rolled his eyes. "You're fine. This isn't exactly a pleasant time for anyone else. I didn't take it personally."

"That's a relief to hear. We're ten minutes away, so notify us at the slightest hint of danger." The radio's crackling faded. Alek and the others were once again left to their thoughts.

The moment was fleeting, though, as the door swung open soon after. In stepped a younger-looking man followed by two taller figures, one male and one female, all of whom were wearing the Austrian Darwinist Alliance's black armbands.

The man clapped his hands together, wryly smiling. "Well, as I live and breathe!" he exclaimed in accented German. "Aleksandar Ferdinand, in the flesh!"

"It's Hohenberg," Alek said to himself. Trying to make a good impression, he greeted them politely and offered them chairs. He took his own seat as soon as the trio had taken theirs.

They all had similar clothing to the rebels he had encountered in Lienz – muted colors, veils for obscuring their identities, and pockets stuffed with ammunition and medical supplies. However, these three lacked the dustiness and damage that adorned the other rebel outfits. He guessed that they were trying to look as presentable as possible for this.

The man, whom Alek assumed was the leader they were supposed to be dealing with, cracked his knuckles. "Never thought I would be in the same room as Prince Alek," he declared, using an odd amount of emphasis when he spoke. "So, let's start with introductions! You can call me Gavrilo. These two," he nudged towards the two Darwinists behind him, "are my lieutenants. They are here to assist me throughout the negotiations."

Alek introduced the others, watching Gavrilo shake his head to the side every time he paused. It was strange, as he appeared to be in some sort of discomfort. Was he suffering from some sort of damage to his eardrums?

"Mr.…ahem, _Gavrilo_," Volger said, "your request to meet with us was, to put it lightly, vague. You said you had an urgent matter to discuss with us, yet you have left us in the dark for most of this arrangement. If you wouldn't mind, we would like some answers."

He stared at Volger, wide-eyed, and cocked his head to the side again. A few blinks later, he spoke up and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Jung slapped the table. "You've been awfully quiet about why you want to surrender to us," he declared, frustrated as ever. "How about you explain yourself before anything else?"

"Oh! Right, of course. I, and a group of like-minded Darwinists, have had enough of Gottschalk's tyrannical reign over Southern Austria. We all stood by her in her early years of leading the Alliance, but as her actions grew more and more extreme, we realized that the power had gone to her head. I used to be an informant for her, and the men and women by my side had similar intelligence-gathering roles. If you give us full pardons for our previous activities, we would be happy to assist you in bringing her and her extremist friends down!"

Could it be true? Could the seeds of discontent be already planted among the Austrian Darwinists? He couldn't get a clear fix on Gavrilo's motives. He wanted to believe that people were merely being coerced into working for that woman, and that she really didn't have a viciously-loyal cult of personality behind her. Then again, people loved Tesla, and his fanaticism nearly brought destructive ruin to the Clanker nations of Europe.

Jung and Volger exchanged glances, seemingly in agreement over the matter. Boesch continued to twiddle his thumbs and contribute nothing as he stood in the corner. Alek hoped that the poor boy wasn't getting too bored. He had hoped that this would get his mind off of Ashton's latest outburst, but he could never tell with him.

Jung rapped his knuckles on the table's natural wooden surface. "That sounds reasonable," he commented. "Very well. Once you three spill your guts to our interrogators, you can call up those other friends of yours to come defect to the winning side. I can't guarantee full pardons, but I'm certain that High Command will feel generous if you give them enough useful info."

"I can lead you to your temporary residences, if you would like," Alek added, trying to feel helpful.

"…Wait, is that it?" Panic seeped into Gavrilo's voice. "That can't be it, can it?"

Volger gave him a half-hearted shrug. "You had simple terms that were easy to comply with. There was hardly any room for an argument or any further discussions."

"Hold on, hold on! We can't just leave now! What about the terms, the people you'll need to contact, the-"

"-Again, that will all be taken care of by our superiors. Our job was to win you over to our side, and we did. Now, are you going to be led to your rooms by Aleksandar, or are you going to have a fit?"

"Wait just one minute!" Gavrilo yelled. "We have traveled miles uphill in the snow just to meet with you, and all we get are a few minutes!" Volger slowly got out of his chair, circling the table gradually. "This is absurd! It's blasphemy, it's madness, it's…a Spartan way to treat people who could have just as easily fled to Switzerland rather than try to join you!"

Volger was directly behind Gavrilo, who continued to rant on, unaware of the count's presence behind him. "And another thing! I don't know about you all, but we were never fed at any point during our time surrendering to you! You Clankers talk a big game about manners and politeness, but you haven't even had the common courtesy to offer us a bite to eat! At the very least, you could keep this meeting going and give us a warm meal!"

With a swift motion, Volger gripped Gavrilo's head with one hand and his shoulder with another, and slammed the side of his face against the table. He yelped in pain, just his lieutenants sprang into action and tried to pry the wildcount off of their leader. Gavrilo's head crashed against the table again, and again, until a few hits later Volger was pulled aside and screamed at by the Darwinist lieutenants.

"Look," Volger hissed over the chaotic din. He pointed at an object that had just landed on the table, and everything started to become clearer to Alek.

A small, worm-like creature writhed around on the table right where Gavrilo's ear had been bashed into repeatedly. Faint noises were emerging from its head. Alek picked it up, held it closer to his ear, and heard a voice quietly talking through it. Everyone grew quiet, from the pain-stricken Gavrilo to his formerly-enraged lieutenants, who stared at the thing in horror.

"…I repeat, Gavrilo," a Serbian-sounding voice called through the worm. It reminded him of the message lizards aboard the _Leviathan_, and how their voices never quite matched with their eccentric appearances. "This is Adrian Lehmann. Is the package still in place? We are ready to deploy once he is secure. Are you listening to me, or are my words falling on deaf ears, pun intended?"

"It's some sort of fab meant for communications," Alek told them. "He's been talking to someone else this entire time."

From the worm came sounds of shuffled papers and objects colliding into each other. "Dammit, they found out!" the voice cried. "Deploy our forces now, we don't have a choice! Remember – we need Alek alive, not dead!"

Jung roughly grabbed Gavrilo by the collar. "What did you just do?" he demanded. "Was this part of your plan all along? To sell him out to your 'great' leader?"

Despite being in grave pain and possibly concussed, Gavrilo managed to let out a laugh. "You know, it's funny how you think you weren't playing into her hands from the beginning. I mean, really, Alek? You thought your return to Austria would go unnoticed by our lady? You chose the wrong side. She will show that to you, one way or the other."

Jung pushed him back into his chair with a grunt. Boesch, looking out the window, weakly asked, "Now what do we do?"

His question was answered by a figure crashing through their door, huffing and panting. Deryn was here! Alek's heart first hastened with joy, then quickened even further once he realized she most likely wasn't here to bring good news.

"Alek!" she shouted at them. She looked as if she had just run several marathons within short spans of each other. "Alek, you have to get out of here!"

Alek dropped the worm-like fab. "Der-," he stopped himself short, "-Dylan? What are you doing here?"

Her arms were roughly grabbed from behind her. She struggled, slipping out of the soldiers' grips with a well-placed elbow to their guts. Alek winced at the blow, but secretly cheered her on. "You all have to get out of here, now!" she said, moving away from the Clanker soldiers who had drawn their pistols at her. "The rebels are going to start their attack any minute now!"

"We have already figured that out, _Mr_. Sharp," Volger said. "Is there anything else you would like to contribute to the conversation?"

Why did Volger have to be that way? All Deryn wanted to do is help! Sarcasm could be saved for when they weren't facing down the threat of an attack. "You can't win this fight. They've got you outnumbered and outgunned! I have to get you out of here, Alek!"

"But, Dylan, it's my duty to fight alongside these people!" he insisted. "What makes this any different?"

She took a deep breath. "That's what she _wants_ you to do!" she tried to say calmly, to limited success. "She's counting on you to fight here, so that way, once you get overrun, she'll have you right where she wants you!"

"So, what does Gottschalk want with me?" Alek asked, handing the worm to Boesch, who studied the fab with curious yet disgusted eyes.

"She's sent a bunch of Black Hand bum-rags to capture you! She's ordered everyone attacking Salzburg to get you back to her alive. She told me she has special plans for you…"

Multiple explosions rocked the ground all around the city, shooting debris and dust into the air. The sounds of gunshots, electrical shocks, and beastie grunts filled the air. And, within a matter of seconds, the first airbeast flew over Salzburg, dropping hordes of Austrian Darwinist rebels and larger beasties into the city limits, all eager to repay the abuse they had suffered on their former rulers.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Special thanks to eisceire for beta-reading this chapter!**

**It's the belated one-year anniversary of Between Two Giants! I never thought I'd update this story so much, to be honest. Thank you, to all of my loyal readers, who stuck with this fanfic through thick and thin. Rest assured, the updates will continue. And good thing, too, since the next chapter will be a tense one.**

**Side notes - Sevare Vitas means "To save lives" in Latin. Also, Gavrilo's a Serb militant for the Austrian Darwinists, but I'm undecided if he's _that_ Gavrilo yet.**


	24. Ashes, Ashes

Chapter 24

"Ashes, Ashes"

**Salzburg, Austria**

**January 18****th****, 1917**

"They have airbeasts now," Alek said to no one in particular, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing. "God's wounds, they have their own airbeasts…"

"B-but how?" Jung cried, flabbergasted as they all were. "They're a bunch of underfunded, underequipped rebels! How the hell did they get their hands on airbeasts?"

Gavrilo let out a quiet, spiteful chuckle. "You Clankers really do underestimate us, don't you? Did you really think we would let you walk all over us again? Our lady gave us the means to fight you on equal footing. Now, you'll know how it feels to be obsolete!"

He and the other two Darwinists produced compact, wrist-mounted guns from their sleeves, pointing them at Alek and the others. Gavrilo sneered at them, and gestured Boesch away from the window. Alek swore: the guards who had chased Deryn had vanished, probably to investigate the chaos outside.

"The only question is this – are you going to stand down and let us take you peacefully, or will there have to be a fight?"

A bolt of electricity crashed against his chest, spreading its tendrils along his torso as he screamed in pain. The other Darwinists reeled back, only to be struck with more bolts, leaving all three as crumpled heaps on the floor.

Alek turned to see Deryn, standing wide-eyed with a disruptor fab on her arm.

"We'll take the second option, if you don't mind!" she yelled at them. Her voice struggled to sound confident, but her face said it all: she was still processing what she had just done. Instincts had driven her to electrocute the rebels, and the weight of her actions had finally begun to dawn on her.

Deryn Sharp, the golden boy of the Air Service and the fiercest defender of Darwinism Alek had ever met, had just killed three fellow Darwinists up close.

When she looked up at him, her eyes were frenzied. "We need to get out of here, now!" she shouted at them. Alek wondered if she was just talking about getting him to safety, or wanting to get as far away from the bodies as possible.

The loud rings of gunshots were growing closer by the second. Vibrations rocked their room's delicate structure. Glancing outside, Alek saw the silhouettes of strange beasties dropping down from the backs of descending airbeasts. From large, quadpedal creatures, to armored, bulky humans, wave after wave of assault teams set foot into Clanker-occupied Salzburg, determined to change its allegiance to Darwinism.

"Where are we supposed to go?" Alek asked her. "They have aerial superiority!"

"Aye, for now! Didn't you lot used to take pride in your airships and aeroplanes? These bum-rags don't have flechette bats or strafing hawks, so the Clankers might stand a chance at fighting off the rebels for once." She started to move for the door, then turned back. "Before I forget…" she opened her jacket, revealing an assortment of oddities – three large, grub-like fabs strapped to the jacket's interior, a cylindrical flare, and a revolver tucked into the waist of her pants.

Deryn roughly stuffed one of the grubs and the revolver into his hands, handing the other over to a disgusted-looking Volger. "You'll need these, take my word for it."

"Hold on," Boesch interjected, "didn't you just say that they didn't have the firepower to hurt us?"

Deryn looked at him as if he were speaking some sort of foreign language. To be fair, he was, but she had become fluent in German over the past few years. "No, you _dummkopf_, I said they won't stand a chance against things like aeroplanes or gyrocopters. They've got nasty beasties on the ground that will tear through your walkers like paper. If you send them in, they'll just get scrapped!"

It was at this moment that Alek became keenly aware of the radio being turned on behind him.

"…I repeat, Captain Mannheim, this is First Lieutenant Herman Jung. We are experiencing a massive surprise attack all across Salzburg! I need any and all available units of yours to move towards my position to intercept them! Anything that works, captain, even those Tyrant walkers we all hate-"

Volger disconnected the radio, sternly staring at Jung. "Did you not just hear what Agent Sharp had to say?"

"I'm doing what I have to!" Jung insisted. "The only thing standing between the Darwinists and the land north of here are city policemen and the mercenaries patrolling the area. We need heavy armor to stall them!"

"You are sending them to an early grave! Even if Sharp is incorrect about the fabrications' power, they will eventually get overwhelmed by the reinforcements pouring into the city. Does this concern you at all?"

"Yes!" Jung yelled. "Do you think I enjoyed giving that request? They know what they're getting into, and they were going to fight here no matter what we did!"

Volger gripped his temples, sighing in exasperation. "Mr. Sharp, just how effective are these fabrications against armor?"

Deryn shrugged. "Pretty barking effective, I'd say!"

Boesch stepped forward. "We started adding ceramic insulators to walkers to make them resistant against those lightning bug things," he said, "kind of like the one you got there. Are you sure they couldn't take on the Darwinists without losing?"

"I told you already, there's no way…" she stopped speaking. The faint droning noise of a mortar shell grew closer by the second. Deryn tackled him to the ground just as it struck.

Powerful vibrations shook the building, kicking dust and debris in the air as if some powerful earthquake had struck the city. A bright flash of light burst nearby them outside, and the foundations of the floor they were on slowly gave way. Alek found himself sliding down as the building collapsed, his own screams mixing in with the others'. Deryn slid closer to him and grabbed his hand. She shouted something to him, but he could hardly hear her over the deafening noise around him.

When he finally hit the ground, he looked back. He had slid a few meters from where he had been. The structure behind him groaned, unable to maintain its own weight as it fell onto itself entirely.

He coughed over and over again, trying to rid his lungs of the ash and dust filling the air. He called Volger's name, but heard no response. Deryn and Boesch were in front of him, but everyone else had vanished. Panic overtook him, and he yelled the count's name louder and louder, getting on his knees and sifting through the rubble.

He couldn't be gone, could he? No, no, it was impossible. Alek's thoughts grew more frantic as he continued digging, ignoring the cuts starting to form on his hands. Where could he have ended up? He yelled his name again, until a calloused hand clamped over his mouth. He whirled around, eyeing Deryn with confusion as she slid a gas mask over her face.

"What are you doing?" he yelled at her. "Volger's gone missing! We have to find him!"

"Aye, but we can't stay out in the open!" Her voice was muffled from the mask, whose wide eye lenses and elephant-like shape gave her an odd, almost non-human appearance.

"But, he could be down there! What if he's buried under that rubble?"

She pressed a mask into his hands. Alek couldn't help but wonder if she had kept those on her, or if she had grabbed them from some part of the room he hadn't noticed. Finally, she tossed a mask to Boesch, who immediately slipped it onto his face. Boesch drew a long-barreled Luger pistol from his hip holster, flipping the safety off as he examined it.

"We both saw him slide out, Alek! Chances are, he's probably looking for us while we're blithering out in the middle of the road! We'll find him, but for now, I've got to get you to safety!"

Alek's voice was almost growing hoarse. He was finding it harder and harder to yell over the commotion going on all around the city.

"You don't understand, Deryn! You at least have your mother and Jaspert! I have _no one_ to look up to except for him! I can't lose him after everything he's done for me!"

Deryn ripped her mask off, sighing loudly. She drew closer to Alek, placing his mask on top of his head. "What would he want, Alek? For you to throw your life away for him, or for you to live on without him?"

A bitter, painful lump entered his throat. "To live on," he weakly mumbled. He blinked the wetness from his eyes, unsure if it was the dust creating the tears or not.

She briefly looked over at Boesch. The moment he looked away, she lightly gave him a peck on the lips. "That's right. He's my friend, too, but there's no reason for us to get ourselves captured or killed when we could easily avoid it." She slid the gas mask over his face, and the scent of asbestos and charcoal rushed to greet him.

Deryn put her mask back on. She prodded Boesch to get his attention, and waved them towards a nearby alley. "There's a series of tunnels the rebels built under the city to slip spies in. We can hide out in one of them until the coast clears. Just follow me, and stay low."

Alek nodded, reaching down to grab the objects she had handed him. He stuffed the grub fab in his pocket, and kept the revolver in his hands. It was the same one Dr. Barlow had given to Deryn, judging by the filed-off serial number and short length.

The three of them crouched down, taking slow and steady movements down a nearby alley. The noises echoing through the city suggested that the Clankers were being badly beaten back. Shouts and panicked cries filled the air, often silenced by gunshots or loud crunches. An airbeast hovered overhead, and Alek kept his head low. In another time, he might have been overjoyed at the sight of one of those beasties.

His breathing had become slower since he had donned the gas mask. Something as simple as taking a breath had become complicated under the mask, due to the cramped feeling it gave him. Also, the fumes of the filter were not entirely enjoyable to breathe in, though he knew that it beat inhaling dust and debris.

It occurred to him that, since Jung had not shown up either, he was probably with Volger. That gave him some small comfort, though he wished someone less temperamental was accompanying the wildcount.

He moved up beside Deryn. "How far until we reach this tunnel?" he quietly asked her, his own voice sounding alien under the filter.

"About 10 blocks, I think. It's a bit far, but it beats getting captured. Just stay low and we should…"

Both of them stopped dead in their tracks. Boesch bumped into their backs and moved beside them. "What did you two stop for?" he hissed, only to join them in their shock.

Standing in the road in front of them was a fabrication unlike anything he had ever seen. He didn't know what to make of the eight-foot tall monstrosity. It looked almost insect-like, but with a bulkier frame and two large, shield-like front legs. Its head jutted awkwardly from its bulbous body. That, combined with its unsightly brown-green skin color gave it an unearthly appearance. It strutted down the road, poking its head around for anything that moved. The three of them kept as still as possible, hoping it wouldn't notice them.

A spray of bullets pelted the beastie, which ducked its head under its front legs just in time. A six-legged Tyrant walker stomped into view, two of its MG08 Spandau's continuing to fire on it. It backed away slowly, making faint chirps as it continued to deflect the bullets. The walker kept moving, seemingly unaware that the creature was blocking its shots.

Two distinct clicking noises signaled that their guns ran dry. The beastie's head perked up, and it charged.

Before the Tyrant could turn around and fire its other two machine guns, the fab rammed it against a nearby building. Some of the walkers' legs came loose from the damage, exposed wires sparking and gears hanging loosely from their machinery. One of the machine guns opened fire, desperately spraying it with bullets, only for it to throw its head back and spit a glob of acid onto the walker's cockpit. The acid chewed through the metal with frightening speeds, exposing the crew, who were promptly subjected to another blast of acid. The walker fell shortly after.

Alek swallowed. "G-good God…" he whispered. The fab began screeching and pounding on the walker in celebration. It was both amazing and horrifying at the same time. Not ever in the Zoological Society had he seen something like that.

"Oh," Boesch muttered. "That's what you meant. What's that thing even called?"

"Vitriol…vitaloicar…I have no barking idea, something with a 'vit' in it. The lads in the airbeasts just called them 'acid-spitters.' We just need to stay away from them."

Alek agreed thoroughly with that sentiment. Cautiously, they tiptoed into the open road. The acid-spitter continued to paw through the walker's wreckage, unaware of the three of them advancing across the road.

Then it froze, perking its head up at them.

Alek's heart stopped. Don't let it notice us, he thought. Oh God, don't let it notice us.

The acid-spitter turned away from them, and charged in the opposite direction, where the crack of a Stormwalker cannon signaled the arrival of the armored reinforcements.

"_Verdammt_, Ashton's that way!" Boesch cried. He picked himself up, as if he were going to heroically charge to her rescue. Deryn swiftly pulled him back onto the pavement.

"If you want to barking die, then keep going that way! Otherwise, keep following us!"

Alek wished he could warn Ashton about the deadly new fabs, but there was no way of telling which Stormwalker was hers. If he got lucky – rather, unlucky – he might stumble into her line of fire and be able to give her the bad news.

Boesch muttered a curse at Deryn, but followed them regardless. They crept through another alley and turned down a corner. They kept close to the storefronts, staying away from the visibility of the road. Alek tightly gripped the revolver as the screams and gunshots suddenly got closer. A few electric bolts shot into the air, disappearing before they got far, immediately followed by the frantic sound of gunfire in the same area. Deryn looked up at the tendrils of electricity, then directed them towards a courtyard.

Alek stopped her, feeling uneasy at the sight of all that open space. "We'll be exposed out there!" he told her.

Deryn shrugged, saying, "Did you see those disruptor bolts? I don't know about you, but heading towards them is a bad idea to me."

She had a point, he admitted to himself. Deryn was surprisingly-composed, given the circumstances. Neither of them had been trained in urban warfare, and she had possibly killed three of her own people without hesitation. The first time Alek had killed a Clanker, he couldn't believe what he had done. Maybe Deryn had her own way of dealing with the grief that caused her.

They stealthfully approached the courtyard, taking glances at the high-rise buildings that surrounded it. Nothing was visible yet, as the scattered supports of one of the complexes had fallen all around the front of the location. Despite the uneven surface, they were able to scale the rubble fairly easily. Alek dropped down, followed by Deryn and Boesch.

When he looked up, he realized that they had made a grave, grave mistake.

Dozens of Darwinist rebels – some scarred, some old, some young, all of the men and women looking dangerous – had fortified the area as a scouting outpost of sorts, complete with ammo caches, a chimera standing guard, and some reverse-engineered radio equipment atop a crate in the middle. He froze, hoping they had the advantage of surprise on their side. Unfortunately, once the chimera's five heads began barking at them, every last rebel whirled at them, gazing at them in shock.

"Clanker scouts!" an Irish-sounding girl with a bird fab on her shoulder shouted. "Take them down!"

Alek had only a split second to hurl himself behind cover before the shooting started. Bullets whizzed all around him. He heard Boesch scream in terror. To his relief, Deryn pulled Boesch behind a large slab of concrete alongside her. Deryn looked over at him and nodded, both realizing what they were going to have to do. There was no way they could ascend the rubble without getting shot.

The only way out was through these Darwinist rebels.

Deryn threw something from behind cover. Peeking out from behind the safety of the damaged, warped metal that had become his shelter, Alek gasped as that grub fab released a shower of acid once it hit the ground. The lucky Darwinists leaped behind cover, but a few less-fortunate ones shrieked and screamed in pain, rolling around futilely as the acid consumed them.

Bile rose in his throat. It took a great deal of strength for him to not vomit in his gas mask.

In the distance, a heavier German voice yelled, "Where the hell did they get a wither-bug from?"

"Doesn't matter!" the Irish girl shouted back. "Just keep shooting!"

The chimera ran towards him. Memories of nearly being mauled by one of those fabs returned to him. Panicking, Alek jammed on the trigger of his revolver, striking the beastie repeatedly. It got knocked back with each shot, giving him time to empty his cylinder into the creature. Yet, somehow, it kept moving, even as four of its heads drooped down lifelessly.

A bullet struck the last head, and the chimera crashed to the ground. Boesch had shot the creature with his pistol. Alek gave him a thumbs-up, his hands shaking from the trembling feeling running through his body. Electricity surged through the metal, forcing him to avoid touching his cover. The Darwinists were keeping them pinned, he vaguely recognized. They were going to overwhelm them unless he did something fast.

One of the ammo caches was close by. Alek gripped the wither-bug gently, before throwing it at an exposed Darwinist firing a Mondragon at them.

In the chaos that followed, he made his move. The creature burst into an acidic shower, coating the rifleman in its deadly fluids, and he made a mad dash for the ammunition. Shots rang out, he kept his head low, and a shot connected with his left ring finger. He screamed and collapsed behind the cache. To his horror, he saw that half of the digit had been blown off, leaving a bloody stump that partially exposed a broken bone. He forced himself to look away from the disgusting sight.

Across the courtyard, the Darwinists were pelting Boesch and Deryn with bullets and bolts of electricity. His good hand dove into the bin of ammunition, retrieving some rounds that would fit into his revolver. He reloaded the pistol as quickly as he could, ignoring the growing pain that surged throughout his left hand.

At least fifteen Darwinists stood between them and the tunnel. Alek stood up from cover, aiming his revolver at the rebels ahead. Two noticed him. He squeezed off a shot at the man wielding a disruptor, then blasted away at the woman with the automatic rifle as his first target crumpled.

More rebels realized where he was, and split themselves between shooting at Deryn and shooting at him. Exploiting this opportunity, Deryn struck a running Darwinist with her disruptor, and Boesch blindly fired his Luger from the safety of the rubble.

Alek ducked back behind the cache, grateful that the fabricated metal was thick enough to withstand rifle rounds. He grabbed a handful of bullets from the bin, dropping whichever weren't the caliber he needed and jamming the rest into the cylinder. He peered out from the right side, firing at the entrenched rebels.

A wither-bug struck Deryn's cover, which absorbed the acid. They missed, he gleefully thought. Then, once the rubble began to melt away, he realized that they weren't aiming for her.

Deryn seemed to notice, too, as she started blindly firing at the rebels, hoping to keep them pinned as another wither-bug struck their cover. Boesch, out of ammo and utterly out of his league, held his head close to his knees and whimpered in terror. She looked at Alek, and the two of them realized her time was running short.

"Alek, run!" she screamed at him. She waved for him to get away, then charged out into the heat of the firefight, blasting away at the Darwinist rebels relentlessly with her disruptor fab. Alek wanted to shout at her to get down, but the thought fizzled away with the realization that she _wanted_ to draw their fire from him.

The honorable side of him told himself to stay and fight alongside Deryn. Perhaps these bloodthirsty, vengeful rebels could be reasoned with, he tried to convince himself. His sensible side told him to run.

Deryn struck several more of the rebels, cursing endlessly at them while dodging back and forth around the scattered debris of the improvised outpost. Alek looked back, trying to decipher which path out of here would be the fastest. Spotting a relatively open gap between two of the nearby buildings, he found the most accessible way out. His legs tensed, and he moved close to the edge of the metal to prepare for his mad dash to Deryn.

Then a bullet struck one of her feet, sending her tumbling to the ground. Her electricity-spewing beastie dropped a couple of meters away from her, well out of her reach as the surviving rebels stepped out one by one, armaments aimed squarely at her.

Against every good judgment he had, he tore his gas mask off and ran out in the open, his hands over his head.

"No!" he screamed. "Don't hurt them! For the love of God, stop!"

The rebels stopped firing, as if they were entranced by the sight. They recognized him, he could tell. Some stared at him in awe, other glared at him in disgust. That Irish-sounding girl drew closer, a Mauser pistol in her hands and a bird fabrication on her shoulder.

"Aleksandar?" she asked him. "Aleksandar Hohenberg?"

He nodded, grimly noticing the weapons trained on him. "Yes, that's me. Please, I beg you, don't hurt them."

Two rebels grabbed ahold of Deryn and Boesch; the former of whom squirmed around and struggled while the latter hung his head in defeat.

The Irish girl smiled. "Never thought I'd meet royalty before! The name's Moira. Looks like I'll be taking care of you from now on."

Then she struck him with her pistol, knocking him onto the ground. Deryn yelled something unintelligible and probably dirty at her, struggling around in sheer rage. Blood spurted from his nose. He scrambled backwards, only to be stopped by another crate. Moira calmly approached him, stepped beside his head, and stomped hard on his face.

A vast world of silence enveloped the ex-prince.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know, I know, it was cruel to leave off on that note. Don't fret, as the fates of Alek, Volger, and the others will be revealed next chapter.**

**Special thanks to eisceire for beta-reading this chapter! His assistance with the chapter (particularly the ending firefight) prevented Deryn from being unintentionally written as a weaker person.**

**On another note, who wants some historical clarification?**

**...No one? Alright, I'll make this quick.**

**-Though less-advanced gas masks were around prior to the Great War, they became prominent after the first use of chlorine gas by the Germans in 1915 at the Second Battle of Ypres. Interestingly enough, it was so effective against the Allied lines that the Germans were too shocked at their success to advance, resulting in the Allies holding most of their positions. Gas masks of the era used activated charcoal along with asbestos filters to prevent the inhalation of deadly fumes. This worked well in the short-term, but asbestos does nasty things to people who are exposed to it, such as causing cancer later on in life.**

**-No, this will not have a downer ending where Alek and Deryn get cancer from the gas masks. I'm not _that_ cruel, mind you.**


	25. Falling Down

Chapter 25

"Falling Down"

**Salzburg, Austria**

**January 18****th****, 1917**

The moment Moira's foot connected with Alek's face, something in Deryn's mind snapped.

Self-preservation went out the window, along with whatever pain she had been feeling from the bullet in her foot. Something caught between a mad scream and a curse exited her throat. She unsheathed her rigging knife, slashing Tobias along the forearm and slipping out of his grasp as he recoiled in pain. The rebels were too stunned to react when she made a mad dash for Moira and struck the Irish girl across the face, then pulled back behind her and jammed the knife against her throat.

"Nobody moves, or she gets it!" she shouted at them, prodding Moira's neck for emphasis. "Put down your guns right now!"

Moira's free arm flailed about for her pockets. Deryn swiftly took ahold of it and jammed it back, causing her captive to cry out in pain.

"Fellas, listen to him!" Moira whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Just do what he's telling you!"

The rebels looked at each other, and one-by-one lowered their weapons. Moira had stopped thrashing about, though Deryn could still feel her heart racing. She was truly terrified, but then again, anyone would be if they were being held hostage by a masked man with a knife at their throat.

Deryn backed away slowly, carrying Moira with her. If they were going to double-cross her, she was going to need some distance between her and the rebels. "Now," her voice became a low, angered growl, "hand over Alek, and I'll give you back the girl."

Tobias, still clutching his bleeding arm, glared at the two of them. "Like hell! It's our job to bring Alek back alive. I don't care who you are or who you're using as a shield, because he's coming with us!"

"Tobias, don't provoke him!" Moira pleaded. "We have Salzburg! There'll always be second chances to get Alek back! Don't let me die out here!"

Deryn cursed under her breath. Now was not the time for them to be playing hardball with her. Sure, she would do almost anything to get Alek back, but would she really kill Moira to get the job done? She wasn't even fighting back at this point…

…Just like how Alek wasn't before she knocked him out. Deryn's anger flared once more, and she jabbed the dull edge of the knife against the front of Moira's throat again. Moira let out a startled cry.

"I'm not playing games here!" Deryn shouted, grateful to have the gas mask obscuring her identity from the men and women she knew. "If you don't hand over Alek in the next ten seconds, the girl dies!"

Two of the rebels eased forward to grab Alek, only for Tobias to stand in their way. "How about a counter-offer?" he asked, drawing a Nagant revolver and firing it at the two.

Deryn felt a sharp, biting sensation graze her side, just as the momentum from Moira being hit sent them crashing towards the ground. A commotion of yelling and fighting broke out among the rebels; out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of one of the rebels snatching the pistol from Tobias and pushing him back. Instead of hitting the hard concrete, though, the two fell further back, bumping down into one of the crudely dug-out tunnels that the rebels were using for espionage and moving supplies. Deryn winced every time she landed on her side.

The force from the gunshot caused the two to roll back into past its entrance, though the tunnel seemed to be unoccupied. When they stopped moving, Deryn grabbed Moira and limped further into it, aided by the light of the glowworms scattered throughout the place.

Once she found a dark enough corridor, she collapsed against the wall and sat Moira down beside her. Her adrenaline faded, the pain came back to her in nearly-overwhelming waves. She felt as if she were going to faint, but held on for Alek's sake.

A shiver ran down her back. Alek was still out there, no doubt being dragged to an airbeast by the bum-rags who had ambushed them. She tried to get up, but the sharp pain in her foot forced her back down.

"My barking foot…" she whispered. This would not be the end of her journey, she thought. Unlike before, she came prepared.

Deryn unhooked the satchel that the waste-of-hydrogen Clanker medic had carried on him during his escape with them. She had no idea what would happen to him, but she didn't have time to find out. Alek was her top priority today. That medic could wait, especially since Alek wouldn't lose his head during a fight. Inside the satchel was a treasure trove of useful supplies – two shots of morphine, an entire roll of bandages, disinfectant fluids, a small set of tweezers, and even a box of matches. She would be back on her feet in no time with all of this!

A faint sob to her right reminded her that she hadn't gone this entire way alone.

"I-I can't believe it…" Moira whispered to herself. "He shot me…he shot me and they didn't stop him. I trusted them! I trusted them all!"

Moira looked up at her, jumping back in terror the moment she saw the mask. "Stay back!" she yelled. "Stay back, you psychopathic eejit!"

Moira's jacket had a slowly-growing red stain along its right side. Her hands clutched at the wound, as if that would stop the bleeding by itself. Deryn noticed that the back of it had a similar stain around that same area.

She tried to approach Moira, but the girl jerked back further. "You're bleeding," she showed her the medical kit, "and I can stop it from getting worse."

"Why should I trust you?" she cried. "You said you would kill me! You stuck a knife near my neck!"

Deryn grumbled at her protests, both frustrated with Moira and pitying her at the same time. "I was never going to kill you. I just needed Alek back. Could you get a little closer so I can help?"

Moira shook her head vigorously. "No, no, no! Get away from me!"

She could just patch up herself and go charging out for Alek…but, her rage towards Moira had simmered out. She had more than enough supplies on-hand to treat them both. She had dragged her into the fight. At the very least, she could have her come out as good as before.

"Time to pull an Alek." With that, she ripped off the gas mask, revealing herself to an even-more-startled-than-before Moira. "Like I said," she told Moira, "you can trust me."

It took the poor lass a beat to realize whom she was looking at. "D…Dylan?" She stuck out her hand, stroking Deryn's face as if she were some sort of ghostly image. "No…no, Dylan left us to go scouting out the area. We assumed he lost his way."

"Actually, I deserted you lot to save my Clanker friend back there. I hoped you would stay safe until I got him out of the city."

Moira kept quiet. A moment later, she whispered, "I don't understand."

"You don't have to. What you _do_ have to do is lift up that jacket of yours. I need to clean up that wound of yours before it gets any worse."

Moira slowly nodded, exposing her injured midsection for treatment. Deryn took a closer look. The shot seemed to have entered through the right edge of her stomach and exited out her back, grazing Deryn's own side on the way out. The hole wasn't very big, owing to the light caliber of Tobias' gun. She was thankful that she had picked a corner deep enough into the tunnels that would allow them to hide from search parties.

She doused a wad of bandages in the disinfectant, and gently rubbed it against the front side of the wound, switching to her back once it seemed clean enough.

"You're…" she winced from the stinging, "you were never on our side, were you, Dylan?"

Moira's question made her pause. "Aye, but not entirely." She unrolled enough of the bandage to wrap it around Moira's torso several times, tying it down once it seemed tight enough. "I'm not much of a doctor, so you should get that stitched up once you get the chance."

Moira muttered a "thanks" as she lowered her jacket back down. "What do you mean, 'not entirely?' If you're not with us, aren't you with the Clankers?"

"It's complicated. I'm working for an outsider for this fight. I don't want Gottschalk to win, but I don't want the Clankers to get too strong, either."

Moira quizzically gazed at her. "I think I get it."

A set of footsteps echoed off in the distance. Moira's hand clamped over her mouth, and she move them to the opposite side of the wall. No glowworms illuminated the place, hiding them under the cover of darkness.

An older-looking rebel peered around the tunnel, looking at their hiding place for a moment. He blinked, sighed, and turned around, commenting to himself, "Dammit, Tobias, you just had to go and shoot them…they're probably long gone by now…"

Once he got far enough away, the two moved back to more-comfortable positions by a pair of glowworms.

Deryn popped off her boot and pulled off her sock. The injury was around the middle, but unlike Moira's gunshot, the bullet was still lodged in her foot. She swore again, removing the tweezers to pry it loose. Thankfully, it wasn't too deep.

"Need your leg held steady for this?" Moira asked her.

"Aye, I'd appreciate it."

Moira gripped her leg as Deryn got the tweezers latched onto the bullet. With a grunt, she pulled it out, cringing with the new shocks of discomfort that ravaged her foot and most of her leg. Moira quickly got on the wound with the supplies, wadding the area with the disinfectant then wrapping it up with a bandage.

"I'll be honest," Deryn admitted, "I thought you'd be angrier with me right now."

"Oh, I am furious." Moira sounded sad, almost melancholic. "But, who can I go back to? The 'friends' that just shot me? At least you're helping me out and giving me someone to talk to."

"You know, if things got bad back there, I wasn't going to kill you. I'd have found another way to get Alek back."

She stopped rifling through the satchel to look into Deryn's eyes. After a pause, she said, "You're telling the truth, I can tell. If it makes you feel better, I didn't mean to hurt Aleksandar that badly. We needed him out cold, and I got a wee bit excited." Out came one of the morphine syringes and some of the bandages. "Now, lift up that coat of yours. I think you took a hit back there, too."

Deryn exposed just enough to give Moira lee-way while hiding her bound chest. There weren't any risks to being exposed as a lass, but she preferred to be safe than sorry. Mimicking her motions, Moira bandaged up the minor injury along Deryn's side. "That should do it. I guess this is where we go our separate ways?"

Deryn nodded. "Aye. I have to get Alek back, no matter what."

Moira fished around in her pockets. "Then take this." A small blunt object was pressed into her hands. "If I'm gonna let you go, I'd like to rest easy knowing you didn't kill everyone on the way to your friend. Oh, and don't touch the sparky side."

It was a beastie with a shape like a brass knuckle. Like a disruptor, it had insect-like features, with a hard shell that glowed with a strange energy. Its legs were curled up in the shape of a loop, with just enough room to fit her fingers through. She had to say, these Darwinist rebels really loved electric weapons.

"I've been working on that in my spare time. Its shell is hard enough to survive impacts with most materials, and it generates elektrical energy as well. It packs enough volts to knock out someone in a single punch, even through thick clothing. I showed it off to Ms. Gottschalk, but she told me that it was too impractical compared to a knife. A shame, seeing as how some of our guys are getting squeamish about killing and fighting the Clankers."

Deryn slipped her fingers through the holes, gripping the machine tightly. "Squeamish? What, are the Darwinists getting cold feet?"

"Some of them are. They say the war's dragged on too long, and that there won't be much left of Austria if it keeps going. Not only that…" she peered around, as if there were others nearby to look out for, then leaned closer to Deryn. "…Not everyone's a fan of Gottschalk these days. I've heard some of the lads privately chew her out for some of the things she's ordered us to do. Mainly with those prison camps, and the way she wants us to treat Clanker civvies. These people have brothers, sisters, and even parents that are still loyal to the Clankers. They can't bring themselves to fight their own families anymore."

Gottschalk was falling out of favor with the Austrian Darwinists? Finally, some good news. What if they overthrew her and put someone in charge who's not as scrambled in the attic? It could save everyone a mess of trouble. "I owe you for everything you've done, Moira," she told her.

Moira waved away the offer. "You already helped me out down here. I'll just tell them I fought you off and didn't get a good look at where you ran off to. Keep in mind that I'll have to act like this little meeting never happened if you get caught."

She got on her feet, but the pain in her foot lashed back hard. Reluctantly, she took out one of the morphine syringes. That should get her moving, even if she hated what the stuff did to her head. Pocketing the elektrical knuckle, she jammed the syringe into the vein in her arm, pressing down on the plunger until every last drop surged through her.

Pain became an abstract feeling to her. Without another word to Moira, she charged out the maze-like structure of the tunnel, exiting out the mouth that had consumed them now long before. Her right hand gripped the electric-knuckle-beastie tightly, as if it were her last hope to get to Alek. In a way, it was her last hope, given how much time she had spent either limping away from the gunfight or patching Moira and herself up.

When she reached the surface, she found that the outpost had been deserted entirely. Traces of the firefight remained, including the residue of the corroded rebels, but Alek and the others were missing. She wished that she had thought to swipe that worm beastie off of that medic in addition to his satchel. If she did, she might have been able to overhear where Alek was being taken.

She had no doubts that Tobias and the others were going to evacuate Alek out of the city the moment they could. They would probably leave Moira for another patrol to find, and board one of those airbeasts with him in tow. In fact, she noticed, there were far fewer of them in the air than before. Everything had gone eerily quiet; the battle had presumably been won by the Darwinists.

On one hand, that meant she would no longer have anyone to back her up. On the other hand, she could hide in plain sight much better now. A good thing, too, since that gas mask was back with Moira in the tunnel. What she had to do was find one of those Black Hand bum-rags and ask where they were taking Alek.

Deryn lightly ran down the ruined, ash-coated streets of Salzburg, giddy as could be. She wasn't sure if it was the morphine making her feel cheerful, or if it was the surreality of the situation. She was alone, striding along the roads and pathways lined with the bodies of walkers, beasties, and fighters from both sides, yet she felt on top of the world. She felt invincible.

She passed by several bands of rebel fighters, none of whom matched the appearance of the Black Hand commandos Gottschalk had sent out. Her search continued on, unaware of time or her own physical state, until she caught a glimpse of several hooded figures moving a group of Clanker civilians into a larger, official-looking legal court.

She gave them a once over, taking note of their uniform patterns. Black clothing…priest-like hoods…Austrian Darwinist Alliance armbands…yes, they matched up perfectly.

She would have to choose her words perfectly. These people tended to play hardball, both in and out of combat.

"Hey, hold up a second!" she shouted at them, briefly startling both the Darwinists and the unfortunate Clankers being dragged off. "I need to ask you lot something!"

The Black Hand commandos exchanged glances. A shorter, light-haired woman with a heavy Russian rifle stepped forward. "Make it quick," she growled at Deryn.

Deryn caught up with the group. The Darwinists in back looked confused, probably unsure if they should still move the Clankers with her watching.

Play it safe, she told herself. Tell the truth, or as much as she could. "I need to know about Aleksandar. I hear he's been captured, but I don't know where he is now. See, I lost my ear-worm beastie during the battle, and I'm supposed to be escorting him back to Ms. Gottschalk. Do you know where he'd be by now?"

Again, another exchange of glances. The lady nervously cleared her throat. "That information is confidential, Agent Sharp. I'm afraid that I can't answer that."

Deryn was mildly surprised that she recognized her. Then again, her exploits during the war were well-known among this group, so it wasn't much of a shock. "Alek was my friend during the Great War, ma'am. I should be the one to bring him to Ms. Gottschalk. I stand the best chance of convincing him to join our side."

"Again, Sharp, that's not your call to make," the woman insisted. "You should get back with your team and round up dissenters like we are."

Deryn peered over at the "dissenters," who looked more like frightened women and children than genuine threats. "I don't think you understand, I've known him for a while now. I know what it takes to win him over, and I don't think you all have what it takes. Now, if you all would just tell me where-"

"-Sharp, I gave you my answer!" yelled the frustrated rebel. "I am not in the position to tell you where Aleksandar is! If you have nothing else to ask me about, then would you kindly leave us be?"

The easy way was now out-of-reach for her. Time for the way she had been itching for since these clartheads had hurt Alek. "Alright then," she responded, "how about I put you in a better position, then?"

Deryn removed the elektrical knuckle from her pocket and struck the lady rebel in the chest, shooting volts of energy through her that knocked her to the ground in an instant.

"Heads-up, heads-up! Sharp's gone rog-" one of the Black Hand commandos started, before Deryn weaved around her last victim and uppercutted him with the knuckle.

One cocked his Mondragon and pulled the trigger, only for Deryn to dodge around his aim and throw the rifle towards his partner, who was blasted with a burst of rifle fire. She struck the surviving rebel repeatedly with the knuckle, strapping his rifle and ammunition across her back for safekeeping. She popped his ear-worm and deposited it in her pocket.

The civilians cowered nearby, not certain what to make of their violent savior.

"Get out of here, you ninnies!" she yelled at them. "They're going to think _you_ did this!"

"Drop the rifle, Sharp!" a voice nearby called out.

Deryn turned to face a group of five rebels, all lightly armed. "We saw everything," their leader continued. "A chickenhawk is already relaying the information to the others."

Deryn swore under her breath. This couldn't get any worse, could it? Now, the entire barking rebellion was going to be hounding her! Carefully, she thumbed the pin on the stun grenade in her coat.

"I don't what's caused this behavior, Agent Sharp," the man sternly told her, "but you should be ashamed of yourself. The Black Hand outrank us, and we have no right to question their decisions, much less attack them. Now, lower your weapons and come with us!"

She threw the grenade in their direction, turning and covering her ears as its distinct detonation sounded off. The Darwinist rebels scattered around, moaning in disorientation and pain. She charged each one, the memory of Alek being attacked fueling her rage. She struck them down one by one with the knuckle, until every last one of them was out cold.

She spat on the unconscious body of their leader. "You lot," she hissed, "are too barking predictable." With the coast clear, she pressed the worm close to her ear, listening carefully to the transmissions being sent around and shaking it to get new results every so often.

"…There's minimal resistance around the city," said one of the later broadcasts. "The Clankers have lost this one. Airbeast _Bel, _you are good to go for bringing Aleksandar to Lady Gottschalk. All transport airbeasts must return to Innsbruck for processing and reassignment. All combat-ready airbeasts…"

Alek was already on an airbeast? Deryn swore again: there was no way to safely stop him from getting to Innsbruck now. She couldn't just blow the airbeast out of the sky, or else she would fry the poor boy from the hydrogen igniting.

She could tail them, though.

She had seen one of the airbeasts land after leaving the tunnel. If she reached that in time, she might be able to take it over, and fly the barking thing to Innsbruck herself.

The thought made her giggle. Hijack a barking airbeast all by her lonesome? Sure, why not! She knew those beasties in and out; in fact, she probably wouldn't have problems flying it. The _Manual of Aeronautics_ described how to fly them in one of its illustrated guides, and she had studied it religiously before enlisting in the Air Service. She still remembered the basics, and that was all that mattered to her.

If she judged the distance, the airbeast was most likely close by. Deryn slinked around street corners and back alleys, careful to avoid any other confrontations until she had found her prize, which was docked in a large, open road. Half a dozen rebels guarded the beastie, with who-knows how many more inside.

Did they know about her scuffle with the Black Hand? If not, they would find out sooner or later. She grinned; it was finally time to cut loose. No more hiding or lying about why she was really here. Maybe it was the morphine that was making it seem possible, but she felt the urge to walk up to those men and punch them in the face.

So, she casually strolled up to the guards. "Know the time?" She gestured to her empty pockets and her watch-less wrist.

As the front Darwinist was about to answer, Deryn socked him hard in the gut with her uncovered hand, then forced the elektrical knuckle against his neck. His whole body shook, and he collapsed before them.

Before the others could draw their weapons, she bolted within arms-reach of them.

She sidestepped a swing of a rifle butt, then another blow, before shocking two of the rebels and knocking down a third bare-handed. A pistol was drawn, then immediately knocked out of the hands that held it as its owner was subjected to tens of thousands of volts of electricity. The one on the ground got a kick to the head, sending him sprawling onto his back. She drove the knuckle against his chest, holding it as he cried out from the shock and fell into unconsciousness.

A blunt object struck her shoulder. Deryn wheeled around, narrowly dodging a shotgun blast from the last rebel guard standing. She feinted a punch from her uncovered hand, and as the rebel reached to catch it, she threw one with the knuckle, electrocuting him fist-first. He fell to the ground like the others before him.

"That takes care of the men on the outside," she muttered. Cautiously, she climbed up into the loading bay of the airbeast. It was much smaller than the _Leviathan_, only around one-fifth of its size. This was definitely meant for transportation, judging by the lack of weapons on-board.

Still, it looked a lot like the _Leviathan_ on the inside. She missed her old home, and the simplicity it brought with it. Back then, Clankers were evil and Darwinists were good. Now, the Darwinists were bad, and Clankers were a mix of bad and good, leaning somewhere in between.

She climbed through the airbeast, looking for the controls. If she could get this beastie up in the air, the ninnies inside would be cut off from any back-up, allowing her to take them down bit-by-bit instead of all at once.

One of the crewmen stumbled into her. "Speaking of which…" she said to herself, hitting the confused Darwinist with electric-charged punches until he was flat on the ground.

A few rooms later, she entered a room that looked eerily similar to the one where the _Leviathan_ was guided from. This had to be it. She rested her hands on the controls, taking in the sight of the switches, gauges, dials, and levers around her. Her free hand slowly lifted the lever marked "ASCEND."

The airbeast responded in kind, gradually rising into the air. She flipped a switch to close the loading bay, leaving the remaining crew isolated, out-of-the-loop, and ill-suited to fighting off someone like her.

Deryn removed the keys to the room, and locked it on her way out. A vengeful sort of grin crossed her face. It was time to give these rebels a taste of what real Darwinism meant.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I was a little surprised at how quickly this chapter was drafted up and refined. The unusual amount of spare time on my hands this week probably contributed to the early release. So, don't expect this kind of speed for the next updates, as this was a rare occurance.**

**The eagle-eyed eisceire beta-read this chapter and helped spot some minor mistakes and rough spots to fix. From this point onward, it's safe to assume that he beta'd any following chapters, and that I'm thankful for his feedback. **

**Fun fact - the airbeast carrying Alek didn't break the naming tradition established in the main series. "Bel" is the name of a mythological being/deity that appears in the Old Testament in the extended version of the Book of Daniel.**


	26. A Meeting of the Minds

Chapter 26

"A Meeting of the Minds"

**Location and Date Unknown**

With slow, steady breaths, Alek opened his eyes, bracing himself for whatever horrors the Darwinist rebels had laid out for him. Instead, he saw nothing but darkness.

Voices gradually became clearer. He heard mostly masculine voices, but a few feminine ones would come into his range from time to time. He tried to move his hands, but they were bound together. Evidently, someone had tied them behind him with rope, along with his legs. He was in a chair of some kind, a rather comfy one at that.

"…Like I said, Adrian, I'm impressed," a distinct feminine voice close to him said. "This is far more civilized than what I was expecting from you."

"Thank you kindly, Lady Gottschalk," a Serbian-sounding man responded. "You know that we try to keep everything civil on the surface."

Alek squirmed around in panic. He was sitting near Gottschalk? God's wounds, those rebels weren't lying back in Salzburg. Where was he now? In some remote prison, awaiting interrogation or torture?

"'On the surface,' you say? Let me guess, all of the shadier business is conducted in the lower levels? If I were to, say, go downstairs for an unannounced inspection, I might find beaten and broken Clankers begging for me to release them?"

A pause followed her question. Gottschalk laughed, clapping as she exclaimed, "Oh, Adrian! That devilish smile betrays you again!"

A hand grabbed the bag draped over his face. "Well, no need to keep him in the dark any longer. Let's bring him up to speed."

With one motion, the cloth over his head was pulled off. Alek squinted from the brightness of the lights, then blinked rapidly until everything got into focus.

He was at a large table, occupied by over a dozen men and women. He and Gottschalk were at the center, sitting across from one another. The room was lavishly-decorated and antiquated in design, as if it was in a renovated castle. In front of everyone were plates topped with some sort of meat and various vegetables.

The ropes binding his hands and legs were cut. Alek felt the urge to run as far away from this place as possible, but the thought was dashed by once he realized he had no idea where he was. He could make a run for it, but who knew where he would end up then? Even then, he was surrounded by Austrian Darwinists, making escape a pipe dream unless he was willing to hurl himself out a window. For now, he would have to play it smart and decipher where they had taken him.

And maybe, if he got lucky, he could talk some sense into Ms. Gottschalk. Surely, the severity of her actions was exaggerated, right? She couldn't be as bad as everyone said. Maybe she had some overzealous subordinates committing crimes in her name that she didn't know about.

It was wishful thinking, yes, but it could hardly make things worse. Diplomacy was always preferable to violence.

"You know, Alek," Gottschalk began, "I have had quite the tough time tracking you down. Do you have any idea how many connections I had to use to track down where you would be sent?" She dismissed her own question with a wave of her hand. "Doesn't matter. What does matter is that I found you before you took any other suicidal chances. I mean, what were you thinking? Allying with the Clankers? The same people who, if I recall, killed your entire family and tried to hunt you down? You should be grateful I saved you when you did!"

Alek placed his hands on the table, about to begin justifying his actions, when he caught sight of his bandaged ring finger. A shock of panic surged through him. He desperately flexed the digit, attempting to feel the joints move. Only a small portion of the finger remained, just below the first joint.

"How did you get _that?_" Gottschalk asked, suddenly concerned.

"Someone…someone shot it off. Before I got captured." He remembered the blows his face took before he blacked out. God only knows what he looked like now. "Some girl named Moira did a number to my face before I got knocked out."

Her eyebrows narrowed, she reached for his hand and gently caressed the finger. Alek wasn't certain if he should pull away or allow her to continue.

"How…_unfortunate_." Gottschalk's tone took an icy turn. "Moira's gotten sloppy since Sharp arrived. Adrian, remind me to have a…_talk_ with her on her performance."

The mere mention of Deryn made him perk up. Where had she ended up? Did she get captured, too, or did she find a way out of that fight? He was starting to get worried about her. She had been getting brasher and less cool-headed since they arrived in Austria. It was as if she lost some of her nerve whenever he was involved.

He had to wonder about Boesch, too. What had become of the unfortunate, love-struck medic that had reluctantly tagged along with him and Deryn on their failed escape?

Gottschalk pulled her hand away. Taking the champagne glass by her plate, she clinked a spoon against it to get everyone's attention.

"I would like to propose a toast!" she exclaimed. "To Aleksandar von Hohenberg, another unfortunate victim of the Clankers' brutality!"

A few of the people sitting clapped, but most did nothing. They all looked important in one way or another. Probably key leaders of the Austrian Darwinist Alliance, Alek thought.

"Lastly, to a quick and speedy end to this war! Once the Clankers are driven from this land, we may finally find peace!"

Again, a few clapped, but most shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. He wondered why no one was trying to enthusiastically agree with their leader. Wasn't Gottschalk beloved throughout the resistance movement, to the point where some circles venerated her?

A woman to his right spoke up. "Actually, we wanted to talk to you about that. You see…" she hesitated, as if she was choosing her words carefully. "…Some of us have been talking, and we think that, with momentum on our side, we should only take a few more key positions before demanding that the Loyalists sue for peace."

The room went silent. If a pin dropped, it would have been deafening compared to the sheer absence of noise.

Then Gottschalk laughed. "No," she said back, smiling as if a humorous joke had just been told. "No, don't be ridiculous. This ends when the Clankers leave or die off."

"But, Ms. Gottschalk, some of our brothers, sisters, and loved ones are Clankers! We are tired of war. We want peace, not more of this fighting."

"They knew what they were getting into by staying loyal to the Clankers. If they get hurt, it's their fault."

"Our original goals, the reason you met with that general, was to have our demands met and to maintain peace with the Clankers! Have you already forgotten that?"

Gottschalk glared at the woman. "Do not try to twist my past against me, Agatha. Anyhow," she clapped her hands together, suddenly cheery, "I'll hear no more of that! Back to the reason why I'm hosting this damn dinner anyway – talking to you, Alek!"

The woman stood up, ready to defy her leader, but the Serbian-sounding man beside her held his hand close to her, as if he were trying to warn her not to press any more. Her bravery fading, she sat down, hanging her head low in shame.

Regardless of how he felt, he had to speak up. If her subordinates felt strongly about peace, then maybe there was hope for the Austrian Darwinists and Clankers burying the hatchet and resolving their problems without further conflict. "Ms. Gottschalk, she has a point. If peace is a reasonable option, it should always be pursued in place of war. My father once said-"

"-Oh, yes, your father," she responded, highly amused. "I know he wanted peace. In case you have forgotten, that sort of thinking got him placed in a coffin near his wife. Or, have the Clankers already tried to convince you that they didn't do it?"

"No – well, yes, but-"

"-But what? Are you really going to sit there and defend the people who killed your family? They killed my father, too, and you know what I did? I tracked down the men responsible as soon as I had enough influence, and I made them regret their choices until their last, dying breaths. And you have the gall to defend them?"

"Not all Clankers are alike," he insisted. "Look at me, for instance! Are you going to look me in the eyes and lump me in the same category as the men who killed your father?"

A smile slowly spread along her lips. "No. Unlike you, I don't see a Clanker in you. I see a Darwinist, much like myself. I would say we have a good amount in common with each other."

That was enough to make Alek stop his pre-planned argument. "We…respectfully speaking, we are nothing alike."

"Oh, really? Nothing alike, you say?" She got out of her chair, circling around the other key Darwinist leaders until she was mere inches away from him. "We were both orphaned at adolescence by bloodthirsty Clankers. We both had to go on the run for safety. We both had to fight back against those who wished to see our worlds melt away. We both crippled the Clankers trying to kill us, driving them to kneel before us in mercy. Are we really that different?"

"Yes, because unlike you, I want to save lives, and you just want to end them!"

It was yet another outburst that Alek wished he could take back. Gottschalk's brow furrowed in anger, and he could tell that he had struck a nerve. He wouldn't apologize for it, no matter what. He told the truth, and that was all that mattered.

"You really are naïve, aren't you?" Gottschalk coldly asked him. "You think you have some moral high ground over me? What, that you're _better_ than me because you got off easy while I starved and suffered for years? Wake up, Alek, I used to _be_ you: a naïve idealist who thought the Clankers were still worth saving. They're not, and you should know that better than anyone else!"

"That isn't it," Alek tried to correct her, knowing full well he had shot himself in the foot with his last comment. "I fought to end a war, and you're fighting to keep a war going when everyone else wants peace."

"Because, apparently, a few dissenters means everyone wants to be friends with the Clankers again." Gottschalk chuckled, which sounded far more sinister than the noise Deryn made. "Tell me, Alek – how many Austrians have you killed so far?"

Alek was taken aback by her question. "What do you mean?" he demanded of her.

"I have personally killed only three people, Alek. How many did you kill when you were serving aboard the _Leviathan_? Or, during your intervention in the Ottoman coup? Or even in the past few months, when you nonchalantly cut down Austrian Darwinists because you thought it was the right thing to do?"

Alek's mind tried to dodge her question. No, he told himself, those killings were necessary. It was kill or be killed during the Great War. Although, the memory of those Austrian and German ships, unable to attack his airbeast yet destroyed by them in some way or another, came to light. He had hunted down both armed and defenseless Clankers both during and after the war, and for what? Glory? Approval?

"It's…it's different. What I had to do was different from what you have done."

His defense only made her laugh even harder. "Remember, Alek, the point of an argument is to convince _me_ of a point, not convince yourself."

Shame washed over him like a torrent of rain. Was he truly any better than her if he left an even bigger trail of bodies in his wake? Yes, there were moments when he had no choice but to fight back, but there were even more when he could have simply walked away from the confrontations. Soft as a whisper, yet still trying to muster some force into his voice, he insisted, "I never wanted to hurt anyone. I never enjoyed killing those people."

"Yet you did it anyway. You killed dozens of people across a mere three years, which I will admit is impressive. Did you ever stop to consider whether they had families to go home to?"

She shrugged, placing her hand on his shoulder. He recoiled from the touch, a reflex that didn't escape her sight. Smirking, she commented, "Ah, what does it matter? They were only Clankers, and you already know my opinions on them." Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. "I wonder, were those intimate moments with Deryn all you needed to drown out the screams of your victims?"

Every thought in Alek's desperate mind came to a grinding halt.

Gottschalk knowingly smiled at him. "Yes, I know about Agent Sharp's true identity. I know more than you could ever imagine."

Say something, he told himself. Find out how much she knows.

"What do you want with me?" he weakly asked her.

"I want you to join me, Alek. Think about the good we could do together! If the world saw us working side-by-side, it would create legitimacy for my cause! We could drive out the Clankers together, and build a newer, better Austria from the ashes of its older incarnation!"

Alek saw four lumbering figures step into the room, taking places at the corners of the room. They wore thick, leathery armor with heavy glass visors and carried jerry-rigged metallic weapons. They seemed human, but each of them easily towered over the room's occupants by at least a foot, if not more. Their presence aroused the attention of the other people at the table.

Gottschalk briefly glanced at them. "Don't mind them, they're just my elite guard. I like to have them around; they keep everything in perspective."

Alek scoffed. "You mean they intimidate your audience."

He half-expected another tirade from her. Instead, she smirked at his remark. "You're smarter than you let on, you know that?"

Gottschalk helped him stand up. She took a step back, then offered her hand to him. "We're at a breaking point, Alek. Europe is trapped between two giants that have been fighting for decades on end. It's time we shifted the balance to the right side – permanently."

He considered her offer, wondering if this fight could truly be stopped by supporting the Darwinists instead. As war-hungry as Gottschalk was, she had some good points. He had worked with Darwinists for the past few years, and the Clankers had caused him enough problems in that same period of time. Austria needed a changing of the guard.

But she would do more harm than good if allowed to seize control of the country.

Alek looked her square in the eyes and gave her one firm answer: "No. I will save Austria, but not with you."

* * *

><p>Deryn got a view of the Black Hand operatives surrounding her airbeast's exits when it was too late to go back up. Loading up her captured Mondragon rifle and strapping on her elektrical knuckle, she kept the blast doors locked shut once the beastie was tied down. Walking past the tied-up and partially-unconscious crew, she swore under her breath. She needed an escape plan, but they probably had every possible passage covered. The ground she had chosen to land on was flat and level - perfect for a smooth exit, but terrible for defending.<p>

"Agent Sharp!" a man shouted to her from the outside. "You are surrounded, and you have nowhere to run. Lay down your arms and step out of the airbeast, or we will take you by force!"

She kept low, edging her way to the one exit she could still use - the portholes above. If she allowed them to climb into the airbeast and search for her, there would be less of them hunting for her outside. She could slip out once enough of them boarded the airbeast and go after Alek herself.

As much as she enjoyed flying the airbeast, it was of no help to her now. Those ropes were tied down tight, and if they were smart, they would guard them carefully.

The beastie's upper membrane groaned from some sort of pressure. They had climbed on top of it, and would no doubt begin trying to flush her out soon. Deryn ran to the upper levels of the ship, slipping into one of the supply barrels to hide. She slowed her breaths, taking in every sound around the airbeast. She heard men and women walking, barking orders at each other, unrolling rope for rappelling into the airbeast, gunshots...

Her concentration broke with the arrival of gunfire. What was going on outside? Were they trying to shoot her beastie full of holes? Or, even worse, were they looking to ignite the hydrogen? They had to know the crew was still in here!

It didn't matter now. Deryn dropped down to the loading bay and began turning the crank with all of her might. This beastie was no _Leviathan_, and it wouldn't hold up from too many rifle bullets in the right places. As soon as there was enough clearance, she slipped out onto the ground, her boots stomping onto the fresh snow.

She was wrong. The Black Hand commandos weren't shooting at her airbeast; they were getting shot at. Every last one of them had been killed by gunfire or by beasties.

Deryn stared, awe-struck at the faint red mist left behind from the attacks.

A crowd of regular Darwinist rebels approached her. A man, looking somewhere in his thirties, stepped up onto the loading ramp of her airbeast. "Agent Sharp, we heard about what you did back in Salzburg," he said in a reserved, respectful tone. "Some of us have grown tired of Gottschalk and her fanatical followers, and are going to stage a coup any minute now. Would you be willing to assist us?"

Deryn quickly told him, "I need to get Alek out of there first. Any of you know where they are holding him?"

A girl, no older than thirteen, called out, "I hear they either took him to the interrogation rooms or the state room. You could try looking around those places."

This daft war might come to an end if Gottschalk got ousted. If someone who wasn't scrambled in the attic got placed in charge, maybe the Darwinists and Clankers would stop fighting and get to rebuilding this place. The thought did sound appealing to her.

"Before all of this," the man continued, "I was a school teacher. I only joined the fight because I thought there was no other way to get through to the Clankers. Now, there's a chance to obtain peace, and Gottschalk wants us to squander it. We need your help to stop her, or she'll get even more people killed in this godforsaken war."

Deryn gazed at the imposing sight of Ambras Castle. It was a suicide mission, that she knew, but the odds were tilted in her favor now. She stood a far better chance of rescuing Alek with this much support, even if it meant sacrificing the "quiet" part of her plan. She could find Alek quicker, take down Gottschalk, and find out what happened to Volger and the others all in one fell swoop.

Rescuing Alek was her priority, but it wouldn't hurt to take down Gottschalk around the same time. With some trickery, they could escape with every hair on their heads intact.

Sporting a cocky grin, Deryn said, "Aye, let's put her down."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Side note - chapter 1 has been updated once more, this time cutting down the exposition by a seventh, moving the author's note up to the top, and altering a few lines here and there for consistency's sake. There's not much new for older readers, but I figured I should mention it regardless.**


	27. The Coup

Chapter 27

"The Coup"

**Innsbruck, Austria**

**January 19****th****, 1917**

Alek had expected his rejection of Gottschalk's offer to go poorly. He expected to get beaten down, or shot, or defenestrated for his defiance of her in front of her subordinates. But, he told himself, he had to be firm. He would never work for a woman hell-bent on ignoring her own allies' wishes and destroying an entire culture for her own satisfaction. Indeed, the other Austrian Darwinist officials at the table gazed at them as if Alek was locked in a cage with a hungry tigeresque. At this point, he would have preferred the fabrication's company over Gottschalk's.

Only the faint twitching of her left eyebrow indicated any sort of unhappiness. Gottschalk smiled, almost unsettlingly so, and pulled back her hand. "So be it," she said calmly and slowly. "Perhaps, with time, you will change your mind."

He felt the stares of those heavily-armored elite guards beating down on him. He was sorely tempted to run, but there was no way he would reach the door before they cut him down. He had gotten a good look at their weapons - cut-down Maxim guns with a bulbous and grey slug fabrication lodged where its ammo drum should be. He had to wonder what sort of damage they could do.

"Thinking of running?" Gottschalk asked, circling around to his other side. "Don't bother. Make no mistake, Alek, you will be assisting my organization one way or the other. If you can't be our spokesman for the major Darwinist powers…" she traced her one of her fingers down his chest, causing him to involuntarily shiver. "…You can be our hostage. With you in our custody, I can use you as leverage any time I need."

Alek prayed that Deryn was somewhere nearby. As it stood, he was out of options. Reasoning with this woman was out of the question. Attacking her would only get him killed or worse, and that was assuming he _could_ pull that off. He and Deryn had practiced boxing a few times before, but his problem was that he hesitated at the mere thought of striking a woman. Even if he didn't hesitate attacking her, she looked like she was accustomed enough to fighting to give him trouble.

A younger Darwinist rebel burst through the door, panting and breathing heavily from exertion. He stopped for a brief moment to catch his breath, then called over, "_Fraulein_ Gottschalk, there's a situation going on outside!"

Without looking at the boy, she shrugged it off. "Whatever it is, it can wait. You all had your orders not to interrupt me for the duration of this godforsaken dinner."

"But it is urgent!" he yelled at her. She glared at him, and his determination withered like a flower in the cold. "My sincerest apologies, my lady," he softly said, "but you need to get to a safe place."

Everyone in the room, Alek included, suddenly became interested in what he was saying. Gottschalk's eyebrows raised with curiosity. "Go on…" she ordered him.

"Some of the men and women around the castle have begun killing Black Hand members and storming their way through the lower floors. They're performing a _coup d'état_ in an effort to oust you from power. Not only that, but a chickenhawk report reached our scouts, and it said that Agent Sharp has gone rogue and started attacking our forces!"

Alek's heart leaped with joy, then dropped with dread. Deryn was still alive! She had avoided getting captured! But, the rebels knew that she wasn't on their side anymore. And this coup…could they succeed in taking down Gottschalk for good? This war would end much quicker without her, he knew that for sure. Which rebels were good and bad, if those two extremes even existed anymore? The Black Hand would naturally side with Gottschalk, but that was just a small fraction of the large resistance movement.

Gottschalk's wine glass dropped out of her hand, shattering on the floor. He hadn't been paying attention to her since the boy had been talking, but it was clear that the cheery façade had slipped off of her. Her facial features were contorted in an expression of pure, uncontrolled rage, which was downright frightening in combination with her cursing under her breath.

"Double the guards along the upper levels!" she barked at her subordinates. "Adrian, call as many Black Hand operatives here as you can! Get an airbeast up here, too! We need to buy ourselves as much time as we can to escape!"

Several of the people at the table nodded at her, then each other.

The woman who had argued with Gottschalk for peace screamed, "Your reign of terror ends now!" as she drew a sawed-down shotgun from her waistcoat.

When the first shot rang out, everything around Alek descended into absolute anarchy.

Some of the pellets struck Gottschalk, sending her crashing to the floor in a screaming, damaged heap. Alek hurled himself down onto the ground, shielding his head with his hands once the bullets began flying. The Darwinist officials turned their guns on one another, and the chorus of gunfire made Alek roll under the table in a panic. A much louder, repeating set of booms joined in. Just like that, the grisly scene turned silent.

Instinctively, Alek crawled out to the other side of the table, grabbing the first pistol he could get his hands on. As he gripped a fallen Steyr-Hahn, a heavy boot placed itself on his injured hand, putting just enough pressure on it to make him whimper in discomfort.

"If you want to keep that hand, Alek," the deep-voiced elite guard told him, "you had best let go of that gun."

Reluctantly, Alek did so. He got up, and was greeted by the sight of the shooting's aftermath. Every last one of the Darwinist subordinates had been killed, either by their own hands or by the heavy rounds fired by the elite guards. It was sickening to look at those wounds, large and burnt as they were. He and Adrian were the only ones to get out of the fight unharmed.

The burning question was whether or not Gottschalk had survived the assassination attempt.

Adrian dropped beside her, crying her name over and over again in a desperate, pleading tone. He held her hand, begging her to hold on even as her face showed no signs of movement. The pellets that struck her had mostly impacted her right side. He shook her more violently, tears falling down his face.

As he looked at the two of them, Alek wondered what he should do. Could he out-maneuver those lumbering giants guarding the doorway and get out of there? Or, was he trapped in there, left at the mercy of Gottschalk's second-in-command and his lackeys?

The weak, scratchy voice of a woman broke the silence. "I'm…still…here…"

Just like that, all of Alek's hope faded away.

Slowly, to Alek's horror and Adrian's delight, Gottschalk eased herself off of the ground. Her dress and coat were torn and tattered from the shots. Her face was paler than usual and slick with sweat. The expression of anger had not left her, though some of the shock from getting shot had softened it up. Gottschalk opened the front of her coat, revealing a jacket made from a material similar to the elite guards' outfits. It must have been designed to resist gunshots.

"Can you walk?" Adrian whispered, helping her onto her feet.

Gottschalk nodded, though she winced with each step. She held her hand to the side that had been struck. The material might have stopped the pellets from causing serious harm, but it couldn't stop the force of their impact. She likely had some cracked ribs from the close encounter.

"_You_," she hissed at Alek. "You're coming with us. We're commandeering an airbeast to get us to a safe location, and if you so much as _sneeze_, I'll make you wish you among the dead here!"

* * *

><p><strong>Outside Ambras Castle<strong>

"You know, beastie," Deryn said to the acid-spitter striding beside her, "I'm kind of surprised this fight is turning out this way. I thought I'd be fighting one of you ninnies, not having you on my side!"

The fab nodded enthusiastically at her, mimicking every detail of her run as best as it could, right down to the limp in her right foot. The rebels starting the coup had given one of the large beasties to her as a token of good will, just before they ran off to storm the castle floor-by-floor. They would be going through the ground floor and climbing to the top of the structure, but they had warned her about the ease of having the basement cave in. They might not have been able to afford taking risks, but she could.

She had to hand it to those dissenters, though, they were certainly gutsy enough. If they won, they could be useful allies to the Zoological Society.

Now that the morphine had worn off, the pain in Deryn's foot had returned. She could ignore it for now, but she knew she would have to get it to a real doctor as soon as possible. She could only hope that Clanker medical tech was better on a military base than it was in a normal home…

When they had reached the locked entrance to Ambras Castle's basement floor, Deryn called the acid-spitter closer. "Alright, beastie, get to work."

The fab tilted its head at her in confusion. "Do your thing, spit some acid on this door," Deryn ordered it. It sniffed the door, then gently prodded it with its shield-like legs. Deryn groaned, wishing the thing would just do its job and burn away the lock. Well, she could always point it out to it.

"Beastie," she waved her hand towards the obstacle, "melt _this_ down."

A tremor of excitement shot through the fab. It threw its head back and hurled a corrosive glob on the obstacle, melting it away in seconds. Cautiously, Deryn advanced down the stairs into the dimly-lit area, only signaling the beastie further down when she knew it was clear. It ducked its head lower, squeezing through the narrow entrance as it joined her in the larger halls.

With its dimly-lit corridors, dirty atmosphere, and the sinister sounding squishes of beastie hatcheries at work, the basement unsettled Deryn. The entire floor seemed empty, barring the one or two rebels monitoring the clusters of egg sacs that comprised their hatcheries. Not much compared to the Zoological Society, but she had to admire their craftiness to have them running in such poor conditions. Still, those beasties deserved a better home than this place.

Further down, she could hear talking. She shushed the humming beastie behind her and crept along the edges of the walls, listening carefully to whatever was going on.

First came the unmistakable echo of a fist colliding with someone. Then, shortly after, another. Deryn tiptoed down the hall, past the empty cells and supply caches scattered around.

One of the cells near her was occupied by an Austrian soldier, his uniform denoting his role as a field medic. He was tied-down and unconscious, his head hanging low over his chest. Bruises and injuries marred his face, and his blonde hair was dusty and unkempt, like a pile of straw. The cells were crudely-constructed, clearly not here before the rebels had set up shop in the castle.

An odd thought crossed her mind. She ducked down to get a better look at his face, studying the innocent, young-looking features on his face.

"Barking spiders," she whispered. It was that medic that had tailed Alek and her during their escape! He had gotten a raw deal, getting captured by the rebels then beaten to a pulp. He may have been a waste of hydrogen in the fight, but he didn't nearly deserve a fate like this.

The door locking him in was a typical, Clanker-built barred one, with not much durability and even less protection against lock-picking. She could reach her arm through the bars, but the boy was too far away to drag closer. Taking out a hair pin from her pocket, she carefully inserted it into the lock, feeling around for the tumblers. She never used them herself, but Dr. Barlow had recommended that she carry a pair for slipping into locked places unnoticed.

"Almost..." she whispered. "Almost..."

Yet another blow echoed throughout the corridor, but this time, it was accompanied by an agonized grunt. Deryn reminded herself to speed it up. What if that was Alek getting the tar beaten out of him? If that was the case, she would gladly give the Darwinist rebel a taste of his own medicine.

A distinct male voice from the end of the hall shouted, "Maybe you don't understand, but we're going to keep at this until you tell me what you _know!_" A stronger-sounding punch struck whoever his unfortunate victim was. "How many walkers did your superiors send to retake Salzburg?"

Deryn blinked, briefly distracted. Was that Tobias again? Clart, that loon was still alive! And unhappy, by the sound of it.

A few presses later, the door opened up. The boy looked up, dazed and half-asleep, his eyelids drooping. She grabbed him by his shoulders and dragged him outside of the cell, resting him against one of the pillars supporting this floor. "Stay here," she hissed at him, leaving him behind to creep towards whatever Tobias was up to.

Slowly, to not draw anyone's attention, she peered into the furthest locked cell. She first caught sight of a girl, a wee bit older than she was, looking just as injured and pummeled as the medic she had passed by. Bruises marred her face, and a trail of dried blood ran down her nose. The girl was on her knees, and her hands were tied behind her back with a thin rope. She had a similar outfit to the Austrian regulars, though it had no clear rank shown on its sleeves.

Standing over her was, as she guessed it, none other than Tobias. He looked about the same, as intimidating and grim as ever, though his arm was heavily stitched-up from the slash wound Deryn had given him in Salzburg. She raised her rifle at chest, though she took care not to alert them to her presence.

"Get your anger out while you can, you Darwinist filth," the girl shot back in perfect English. "Your own people are going to tear you apart any minute now."

Deryn took a step back in shock. The girl was an Englishwoman? Not only that, but a Clanker? What in blazes was she doing here?

Tobias chuckled, laughing off her threat as if there wasn't a revolt going on over their heads. "The dissenters won't save you, and neither can the Clankers. They'll both be taken down by the true masters of Austria, the Darwinists loyal to Gottschalk."

The girl struggled with her ropes. Tobias smirked, apparently amused by this. Seizing the opportunity, she spat a heap of blood onto his face, only to be rewarded by another blow from Tobias. Deryn cringed; she couldn't stand by and watch much more of this. Something had to be done.

"Go to hell!" the English girl snarled. "Austria would be at peace right now if you lot hadn't gone and stirred the pot. You rebels went around killing soldiers…did you think we were going to stand around and take it without a fight?"

"No." Tobias drew his pistol and aimed it squarely at her forehead. "Honestly, I had hoped you all would fight back. That's makes this moment so satisfying to me."

Deryn couldn't hold back. "Stop!" she yelled at Tobias. "Do anything else to her, and that'll be the end of you!"

Tobias wheeled his head around in shock, distracted by the outburst. The girl slipped her hands out of the ropes and charged him, striking him in the gut and grabbing his pistol. The two struggled, grunting in frustration until – to Deryn's utter shock – she somehow overpowered him and fired the gun repeatedly into his chest. The girl promptly spun around and aimed the gun at Deryn.

Deryn slowly raised her rifle, trying not to provoke the girl. "Lower the gun," she slowly told her. "I'm on your side."

"Do I look daft to you?" she asked Deryn. Her arms were shaking, and her legs looked unsteady. Still, she had an air of confidence to her, even though she had taken quite the beating.

"No, you don't. That's why you're not going to shoot the boy who just saved your life. Now, put that pistol away so I can break you out of there."

She paused, considering Deryn's offer carefully. The pistol was shoved down her pocket, and in its place went the cell keys attached to her captor's belt. One turn, and she strolled out of the cell unsteadily.

"I'm not usually fond of Darwinists, but…thanks for the save back there. I'm Ashton. Mercenary for the Austrian Loyalists, and resident English expatriate."

"Just call me Dylan. I'm trying to break a friend of mine, Aleksandar, out of this castle. The moment he's safe, I'm going after Gottschalk and putting an end to this war."

"Alek?" Ashton asked, perking up at the name. "He's up on the top floor with Gottschalk herself. She's trying to wine and dine him into joining the Alliance."

"Upstairs?" Deryn cried. He was right next to Gottschalk? "Clart! How am I supposed to get to him without drawing him into the fight?"

"He can handle himself just fine, believe me. The people I'm worried about are that Count Volger and Lieutenant Jung. They got moved to some secure labor camp for questioning. They're long gone now."

Deryn swore under her breath. It was one thing after another, wasn't it? She was going to have to come back for Volger another time. Alek was more important.

"I need your help," Ashton continued. "A friend of mine's trapped down here, and I need to break him out before anything else. He's a medic named Boesch."

So, the boy's name was Boesch. Had she heard it before and forgotten about it? It didn't matter, now that she was sure about his name. "I just sprung him from his cell. He should be resting down the hall."

She led Ashton to the medic, who was still slumped against the pillar, moaning in pain.

"Boesch?" she whispered, her voice becoming soft and delicate. "It's Ashton. Are you awake?"

His head twitched. Grudgingly, his eyes opened, immediately brightening at the sight of Ashton. He tried to speak, but nothing more than a wounded groan emerged.

Ashton gently raised him onto his feet. She hushed him, throwing one of his arms over her shoulders to carry him along. "You're going to be okay. Stay quiet, and we'll get out of here alive. I promise you, you will be okay."

Boesch started shaking. Deryn rushed to him, initially thinking he was suffering from some sort of internal injury. Heavy sobs wracked the poor medic. Tears streamed down his face as he whispered, "Thank you, thank you…" over and over again to his liberators.

Ashton drew her pistol with her free hand. "How are we going to tell the decent Darwinists from the regular ones?"

Deryn shrugged. "If they shoot me on sight, they're bad. If not, they're good."

Accompanied by the acid-spitter, the three ascended the stairwell near Ashton's cell, entering the first floor of the castle.

The historic site had become a war zone. Burns and bullet holes covered the rustic walls of the castle. Bodies, both human and beastie, scattered the hallway. Artwork and sculptures lay destroyed and damaged by the fighting. Gunshots still rang out, nerve-rackingly close to them. Beasties snarled and cried out in distant sections of the building.

"The two of you are too banged-up to be getting involved in this," Deryn told her. "I have an airbeast tied down outside. Get Boesch to safety and wait for me there."

Ashton hefted Boesch over her back. "As tempting as killing Gottschalk sounds, I shouldn't drag him into this. Don't take too long, alright?" She walked out through the basement stairwell, carrying the injured Clanker medic to safety.

Deryn sighed. Alone, again. Though, this time she had some support. "Am I right, beastie?" she asked the acid-spitter. The fabrication hummed enthusiastically, rubbing its head against her playfully. She found herself laughing and petting its nose, as if she were back at the Society playing with unruly beasties. It made her heart ache. These days, she wished she was back doing eccentric jobs and such for the Zoological Society. They certainly beat fighting in civil wars against the kind of people they would normally support!

This was not a time for blethering, though. Gruffly, she shook off the nostalgia and readied her rifle, waving the beastie to follow closely. She had to reach Gottschalk and Alek as soon as possible. She didn't care _what_ got in her way; nothing would stop her from freeing the boy she dearly loved.

It was at that moment when a rag-tag band of rebels descended the staircase she needed to ascend. She hesitated, waiting for them to reveal their allegiance by reacting to her.

Upon seeing her, the boy in front nearly fell onto his bum. Scrambling up, he yelled, "It's Sharp! Don't let her reach Lady Gottschalk!"

"Beastie!" Deryn cried at the acid-spitter, pointing at the squad of lightly-armed rebels. "Bring them down!"

A louder, more sinister screech escaped the beastie's mouth as it charged the group, scattering them around. The fab was ferocious in combat, forcing the rebels to scramble as it whirled around, striking some of them with its sturdy front legs. Just as two of the rebels behind it squeezed off bolts from their disruptors, it yelped, twisting around and knocking them to the ground, stomping on them until they stopped moving.

The leader of the group yelled some orders at the survivors, but they went unheard, as he was struck by a glob of acid, consuming the poor man like the other acid-based fabs the Austrian Darwinists were so fond of. The remaining group, realizing how underequipped they were, made a beeline for the door. The acid-spitter ran in front of them, blocking their escape. It rushed them once more, though they did not get up from this set of blows.

The acid-spitter galloped back to Deryn, head tilted and mouth gaping at her as if it were awaiting approval. She did her best to smile, viscerally disturbed by how efficient the beastie was at crippling other people.

Deryn and the fab ascended the staircase, listening to the chaotic fighting consuming the castle. There was no way for her to tell which side was winning, but her hopes were for a victory for the dissenters. Her hands grew sweatier and sweatier as she got closer to the top floor, fearful for Alek's safety. He was all alone with the lunatic driving Austria to an endless war, no doubt trying to reason with her. At least Deryn had a beastie on her side! If Gottschalk didn't take kindly to his appeals, what could he do to fight back?

Above her, she heard the distinct voice of the Austrian rebel leader barking orders.

"_You_," Gottschalk snarled. "You're coming with us. We're commandeering an airbeast to get us to a safe location, and if you so much as _sneeze_, I'll make you wish you among the dead here!"

Good, Deryn thought, Gottschalk was still here. But not for long, if that comment by her was any indication. Was Alek the one receiving the threat? Her pace quickened, fearful of arriving too late to save him.

The bodies grew more numerous as she and the beastie reached the top floor. Deryn tried to keep her revulsion under control as she got up the last step, clutching her rifle closely as she walked straight into a Black Hand ambush.

"Oh, clart…"

A dozen heavily-armed Black Hand commandos stood between her and the estate room, where she and Gottschalk had first met two months ago. They all looked battle-hardened, wielding both conventional weapons and handheld beasties. Every last one of them had their weapons trained on her.

One of the commandos in front sarcastically clapped. "Well done, Sharp!" he yelled. "Congratulations on walking right into a bottleneck! We'll be sure to repay every last bit of damage you dealt to us tenfold!"

She had only one option left. The walls should be worn-down enough to crumble under enough damage. They were expecting her to start shooting at them and go down in a blaze of glory, right? What if…

"Beastie, go long!" she shrieked, pointing two fingers at the cracked, bullet-ridden ceiling. She hurled herself behind the acid spitter as it released a corrosive glob at the commandos. The blob missed them, but as Deryn knew, she wasn't trying to hit them in the first place. It stuck to the ceiling, weakening it as she pointed towards the wall next to them. Bullets and electrical bolts crashed against the beastie, hurting it enough to delay its response.

"Hurry up!" she yelled. Weakly, it spat a small piece of acid onto the estate room wall, giving her enough clearance to enter. The ceiling collapsed onto the Black Hand commandos, silencing them for good. She didn't care if they were dead or unconscious; as long as they were done shooting at her, she was alright.

Alek was there. He was injured, sure, and his face had seen better days, but he was still breathing. So was Gottschalk, and that Adrian fellow that ran a lot of the affairs for the Black Hand. Around them were nearly a dozen fresh bodies and four lumbering Goliath-like figures that were armed – and armored – to impressive levels.

They all gaped at her, Alek in shock, Gottschalk in anger and disgust, Adrian in curiosity. The acid-spitter pushed its way through the wreckage, backing up Deryn in spite of its injuries.

"Sharp!" Gottschalk screamed. "I should've known you were nothing but trouble! You…and that witch Barlow…people like you always try to take advantage of me!"

Then Alek acted, kneeing Adrian into the gut and pushing him into Gottschalk. He made a mad dash to Deryn, running to her side as the massive guards reacted too late to his escape.

"Now, beastie!" Deryn pointed her finger at Gottschalk, as if she was a judge deciding her fate. "Take down the lass there, and put an end to this blasted war!"

"_Stand…down!_" Gottschalk screamed at the fabrication. "_You-will-obey-me!_" It stopped itself short of churning enough acid to release at them. Deryn looked back, worried by the beastie's obedience to her. Was it taking Gottschalk's orders over hers?

She had to do the job herself. She pressed down on the rifle's trigger, only for a click to follow. She hurriedly pulled back the bolt, discovering a spent bullet had jammed itself in the rifle's mechanisms. She was no Clanker, she didn't know how to fix it!"

"What's wrong?" Alek asked her. One look at the jammed rifle was all he needed to understand how much the tables had turned on them.

Gottschalk snickered at her. "Vitriolicant," she waved her hand at the beastie's former master, "you have new orders: kill Aleksandar and Deryn."

The fabrication let out an ear-piercing shriek. Deryn grabbed Alek and ran. A hard, bumpy object struck her back, sending them both tumbling down the stairs.

Her foot fell into a fit of unbearable pain. As much as it hurt to put pressure on, she couldn't stop now. Alek helped her up, looking back in terror as the renegade beastie descended the stairs after them.

"How are we going to get out of this?" Alek asked her, panting and moaning in pain as they desperately tried to outrun the charging fabrication.

Killing Gottschalk was out of the question now, Deryn realized. By the time they might catch up with her, she would either be ready for them, or have already escaped. Their only remaining option was to clear a path to the airbeast and get out of there.

"I have an airbeast waiting for us outside!" she responded, hoping that the rebels loyal to Gottschalk hadn't destroyed it in the meantime. "I've got a girl named Ashton and that medic Boesch watching it!"

"Ashton and Boesch? They're okay? What about Volger?"

She glared at him, huffing and puffing while she said, "Blisters, Alek, not the time for questions!"

The two turned another corner, which looked almost identical to the last way they had run down. It didn't make any sense! When she was here before, it was easy to navigate the old castle. But now, with all of the wreckage and damage from the coup, every hall, floor, and path was indistinguishable from all the others.

Up ahead, two Black Hand commandos noticed them. One swore as she drew a pistol, giving Deryn little time to duck to the ground. Desperately, she hurled the electrikal knuckle at the woman, stunning her long enough for Deryn to strike the other with her jammed rifle. She dropped the useless gun and ran off, not caring what became of the two behind them.

Deryn was nearly collapsing by the time they had gotten outdoors. Outside, the fighting had almost concluded. As she had feared, it was not going in their favor. Black Hand commandos were storming the front gates of Ambras Castle, rounding up dissenting rebels and wiping out resistance with deadly efficiency. Both she and Alek groaned at the turn of events.

Not far away stood her airbeast, still tied-down and unharmed. "It's the home stretch, Alek, hurry!"

A familiar screech stood out among the commotion. The acid-spitter, having somehow beaten them outside, moved between them and the airbeast. It was cut up and heavily-injured, but it could still easily take them both on.

"What now?" Alek whispered, clinging to Deryn impulsively.

Deryn gripped Alek's hand back and reached for the electrikal knuckle. Her hands found nothing in her pockets. She swore; she must have forgotten to pick it back up.

Defiantly, she stared down the rogue beastie. "No matter what happens, Alek, you need to get to the airbeast. Is that clear?"

"No!" he said back, too stubborn to leave her. "Either we both leave, or I'm staying with you!"

The acid-spitter menacingly approached them. It carried itself awkwardly, its legs nearly buckling under its own weight.

"I appreciate it, but this isn't the time to be romantic! You need to get out of here now!"

Before any heroics could occur, a sharp metal staff struck the beastie's back. It shrieked in pain, stomping around and whirling its head around in an effort to dislodge the object. It started beeping rapidly, and at once a bright flash surrounded the fabrication.

When the smoke cleared, only its legs and the small pieces of its torso remained.

Ashton stepped out of the airbeast, carrying a modified mortar launcher. "Huh, the explosive harpoon idea worked after all," she muttered to herself.

Wasting no time, Deryn and Alek boarded the airbeast. Ashton closed up the loading bay doors while the two made their way to the control room.

"We're going to Vienna, Alek. We can plan our next move there."

"But…what about Volger?"

Deryn sighed. "Things have gotten very complicated, Alek…"

* * *

><p><strong>Southern Austria<strong>

"I knew it, I knew it, _I knew it!_"

Gottschalk screamed these words at the sky, as if God himself were going to apologize for the inconveniences she was experiencing. Her elite guards, or "titans" as Adrian affectionately deemed them, stood beside her and her right-hand man as they boarded their own airbeast.

"Barlow was _never_ on my side! She was trying to sabotage the Alliance from within, using that crony Sharp to do her dirty work!"

Inside, the airbeast's crew regarded their leader with awe and fear. On one hand, they had the honor of escorting their beloved Lady Gottschalk to their secure headquarters near Sarajevo. On the other hand, she was feeling furious and absolutely vindictive. She was ready to slip her hands around Barlow's traitorous throat and wring the life out of her.

She felt some small comfort in knowing that there was a chance her vitriolicant would kill Sharp and Aleksandar, making her life that much easier. Unfortunately, she doubted that would be the case. They had a bad habit of surviving when the odds were against them.

Adrian glanced out the window. "This coup should be over in a few hours. Do you want my men to round up the dissenters and make examples of them?"

Gottschalk was shaking with fury. She had to calm down, she told herself. For the good of Darwinism in Austria, and for her own sake. "Do whatever you have to. You are going to be in charge of the Alliance's affairs for a short while. I only ask that you send any spare airbeast crews after Aleksander and Deryn."

"But-but, Miss Gottschalk, me in charge of everything? Why would you give up control of the Alliance?"

"It isn't permanent, you _Dummkopf_. I'm going to London to pay a visit to our dear friend, Dr. Nora Barlow. Because, you know what? This will kill two birds with one stone! I'm going to put an end to her scheming and get the support I need at the same time! The Clankers will be driven from Austria, _whether my people like it or not!_"

Outside, Ambras Castle burned, creating a smoke trail visible for miles away. Gottschalk stared at the site, her hurt ego from the _coup d'etat_ and her raw anger from the betrayal mixing into a dangerous cocktail of emotions.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This was a beast of a chapter to write, revise, and cut into its current form, hence the long delay between chapters. Special thanks to eisceire for not only beta-reading this chapter, but for giving advice on tweaking a few of this chapter's crucial scenes.**

**Before I go - don't forget to leave feedback in the review box below! We're nearing the last act of the plot, during which any sort of second opinions will come in handy as I try to wrap everything up!**


	28. War, and Rumors of War

Chapter 28

"War, and Rumors of War"

**Graz, Austria**

**January 22nd, 1917**

"Take a good look around, Clanker, because this is your new home. You had best get used to it."

Unimpressed by the Serb's constant efforts to appear intimidating, Volger continued to be dragged through the prison's dark, poorly-kept halls. A formation of four Black Hand operatives and a chimaera walked beside him, with that Lehmann idiot taking the lead as if he was a competent commander. Volger knew that the opportunities for immediate escape were nonexistent. His hands were cuffed, his equipment had been confiscated, and the chances of Alek finding him were slim to none. The only possessions he had were the clothes on his back, and the worm fabrication hidden in his coat that Alek had handed him before their separation.

He couldn't help but chuckle. Finally, a complex challenge for him to solve.

Behind him, Jung swore vigorously at his own captors, insulting every aspects of their appearance, beliefs, and lineage whenever he wasn't getting clubbed with a rifle butt. Undoubtedly, he blamed Volger or Alek for his predicament, even though they had nothing to do with it.

Volger and Jung had the misfortune to stumble out of a shelled building and into the hands of a Black Hand raiding party. Bruised and disoriented, they were in no shape to fight back, forcing them to surrender. Only Volger's quick thinking and penchant for lying convinced them to spare the two of them.

Though the lieutenant was hot-headed and brash, he could be of use during Volger's eventual escape. He had a knack for getting under people's skin that might become useful in a distraction scenario. His up-to-date knowledge of Austria would also benefit them if they escaped this prison's crumbling, damaged walls.

In a worst-case scenario, Jung could always take a bullet for him or vice-versa. Protecting and assisting Alek was his top priority, with Deryn extending under that same watch to an extent.

The group stopped in front of a tight prison cell blocked off by iron-wrought bars, complete with mysterious stains that could either be wine or blood, and straw that must have been slept on by many a fabrication.

With a flourish, Adrian opened the door, warmly inviting Volger into it. "Here we are," he said, sporting a grin that begged to be punched. "I would recommend sleeping early, as you will have a busy day tomorrow. Starting at six o'clock, we will…"

Volger groaned and rubbed his temples. He could take sleeping in a walker or a barn, but this was simply too much for him. There was a line that he would never cross, and resting in the filth of a fabricated creature was far past it.

Time to see if he could turn the tables on these people.

Volger cleared his throat, rubbed his hands together, and began glaring a hole into Adrian's clean-shaven head. To his surprise, Adrian cut himself short, unnerved and intimidated by his captive's unusual command of authority.

This would be easier than he had anticipated.

"I'm assuming that you're telling a joke; you could not possibly be that short-sighted. _This_," Volger gestured to the cell as best as he could while chained, "is where you intend to hold me?"

Adrian shuffled his feet together nervously for the briefest of moments. Realizing he was losing control of the situation, he barked, "Yes, and that is final! Every Clanker prisoner is treated equally, like the vermin they are! If you have a problem with it, you can take it up with my-"

"-Are you _that_ naive?" Volger goaded him. "To treat me like a common prisoner…how ignorant does your master keep you? Are you nothing more to her than a common plaything?"

"Frankly," Jung commented, "I don't think you're going far enough with the insults," He weakly hobbled forward, inhibited by his injuries, his damaged prosthetic leg, and the tight grip of his captors. "By all means, though, you should continue."

At the same time, Adrian recoiled at Volger's less-than-subtle insults. Desperate to maintain his illusion of power and respect, he drew a blocky pistol and aimed it at Volger's chin.

"Talk back to me like that again," Adrian cried in a frightened, not-so-masculine tone, "and you'll be going somewhere hot real fast!"

"Do that, and your beloved Gottschalk will crucify you against a fallen walker. Did she not tell you of our collaboration in the days before the war?"

Stupefied, he shook his head, staring at Volger timidly and silently encouraging him to go on.

Relying upon his wit and brief experiences as a theater actor, Volger wove the contacts he actually had with Gottschalk along with a smorgasbord of half-truths and exaggerations, creating the illusion that the two had been close allies and friends. Every intimate detail about Volger and Gottschalk's "adventures" struck Adrian harder than any physical blow could. By the end of Volger's torrent of information, the Darwinist commander looked as if his ego had shrunk five times smaller.

"Therefore, my boy," concluded Volger, "I would recommend that you move the lieutenant and me into better living arrangements for the duration of our stay here. Otherwise…you might anger your beloved Lady Gottschalk, and I have a feeling that you would regret that rather quickly."

The hall, and everyone in it, went silent. Jung stumbled to his side, chains clinking together while the last guard held his arm closely. Volger was sorely tempted to throw another subtle insult at the offended Serb, but he had to bite his tongue for this plan to work. For what it was worth, Jung had the common sense not to pipe up at such a pivotal time. If he was to escape from this dump, he needed to be well-rested enough to craft out a plan, and his intended quarters would leave him deprived of sleep and in a poor mental state.

A few minutes of silent deliberation and hectic pacing back-and-forth later, Adrian spoke up.

"Men, move Wildcount Volger and his partner into the guest room. Ensure that it is furnished and comfortable by the time I arrive back with Lady Gottschalk's latest orders."

* * *

><p><strong>January 25th<strong>

Though his elaborate escape plans had yet to come to fruition, Volger took comfort in the knowledge that he could skirt around assisting the Darwinists' war effort through plausible deniability.

"For God's sake!" cried a flustered Adrian. "You have to _remember_ something from your time at the Society! Life chain combinations, methods of raising fabs, effective breeding strategies – _anything_ will do!"

He was stuck working in one of the many cramped, damp, and dirty hatcheries deep within the prison's walls. The small room that housed the hatchery reeked of fab droppings, and the only source of light were the illuminated disruptor fabs crawling along the ceiling. Four others had the poor luck to be on the same duty as him, which amounted to assisting the Darwinists in creating more fabrications and scrubbing the place whenever an egg would messily hatch.

Volger sighed. His primary complaint was that the prison's commandant was as insufferable as ever. Whenever he escaped, he would have to warn the Loyalists about the location's obscurity. Perhaps they could liberate it and get some high-ranking prisoners in the process…

Adrian prodded him further with his nagging. "_Hello_? Am I even getting through to you at this point?"

"Yes, you are," Volger answered in a dull, dry tone. "But I'm afraid you will be sorely disappointed. I acted as an intelligence officer for the Zoological Society, not a fabricator or trainer. I know what their fabrications look like, but you would be better off asking someone else how to make a flechette bat or a strafing hawk."

Adrian groaned in exasperation. He made the image of a pistol with his thumb and forefinger, then pointed it at his head and pretended to blow his brains out.

"Fine," he hissed. "From now on, you are on cleaning duty whenever you're assigned to a hatchery! Ignorance and laziness I can deal with by themselves, but together they are unacceptable!"

He marched out of the hatchery, leaving Volger alone with the other prisoners and a half-asleep guard who was far too young to be fighting in a war. The thought of overpowering the ragged-looking Darwinist boy and running was tempting, but he doubted that he would get far while the vast majority of Black Hand operatives still roamed its halls.

One of his fellow prisoners, a middle-aged, sturdily-built woman with a severe limp in one of her legs, casually slipped beside him. Shooting him a glance, she handed him a bucket and a mop and directed him to the back corner of the room.

"You're the Clanker count, correct?" she asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

"And who, might I ask, wants to know?"

"A former subordinate to Gottschalk. I was in her command team."

That was all Volger needed to hear. He was not willing to get himself mixed up with internal squabbling between the Darwinists while the war was at a tipping point. He would rather work his way out with lower-ranking members of the Alliance, since they would have fewer ties with the organization and less qualms about abandoning their former allies.

As he turned to leave, she roughly grabbed his shoulders and whirled him around. She muffled his cry of protest with a hand over his lips.

"Don't you dare leave me yet!" she quietly growled at him. "Our interests are aligned for the time being – we both need to break out of this dump as soon as possible!"

Volger roughly pulled himself from the woman's grasp. God, what was with people here and laying their hands on him? Hadn't they ever heard of personal space and common decency? Even the Darwinists aboard the _Leviathan_ didn't manhandle him so casually! "Give me a reason why I should trust you."

"I tried to kill Gottschalk with a shotgun." She shrugged, as if this was an ordinary occurrence in her eyes. "If that isn't enough to convince you, I don't know what else will."

Volger sized up both the woman and her offer. She could be lying, true, but did he really have much to lose by working with her? Even if she betrayed him, that would only net him a slap on the wrist due to his duping of Adrian. They could be allies of necessity for the time being.

"Point taken. I suppose it would be beneficial to work together on an escape. Tell me, though – exactly who am I talking to?"

"Just call me Agatha. Not much else about me matters at this point."

A trio of Darwinist guards strolled into the room. Agatha separated from Volger, mouthing "I'll be in touch," as she resumed her "valiant" duty of pretending to work with the life chains.

* * *

><p><strong>January 31<strong>**st**

"Oh my God…" Adrian moaned over the communicator, "…oh God, oh God, oh God. Are you sure? There's no doubt in your mind?"

In a darker corner of the hatchery, when the poor boy standing guard over them had fallen asleep, Volger and his two reluctant allies huddled together near his stolen worm fabrication, eavesdropping on a transmission from a troubled Adrian.

Jung strained to maintain balance with one leg to kneel on. His prosthetic one did not allow any bending, forcing him to jut it forward awkwardly while he balanced himself on Volger and Agatha's shoulders.

"What's he going on about?" Jung asked, sticking his head even closer to the fabrication. "Can we pick up the signal he's talking over?"

Agatha shook her head. "There's a limit to the transmission range on the standard-issue beasties. I would know, seeing as how Gott and I worked on them together. He's probably using one of the long-range fabrications that her subordinates got."

Volger impatiently shushed them once the talking on Adrian's end resumed.

"Her airbeast…it's been downed? Over where?" A long pause of silence followed. "Vienna! That's Clanker territory! She'll be torn to shreds there! Do the Loyalists know about it?" The second pause lasted much shorter, followed immediately by Adrian panicking. "Oh God, what do I do? I need to – I mean, we need to get her back! How soon do you think we could deploy our soldiers to the crash site?"

"Did you hear that?" Jung exclaimed. "Gottschalk's within an arm's reach of our headquarters! They could strike her down while she and her bodyguards are still recovering!"

"Quiet!" Volger hissed. This information could finally put a stop to the war. Or, at the very least, reduce its severity. He doubted that the Clankers and Darwinists would get along no matter how the war ended, but with an agitator like Gottschalk out of the picture, perhaps some moderates could take the field and talk out problems. His experience with politics and fleeing from Austria had made him cynical towards both sides of the conflict.

Meanwhile, Adrian was downright whimpering with the news of his beloved Gottschalk in danger. "Yes, yes, I see…" he muttered. "Whatever you can do to get your men there the soonest and extract her, do it. I'm willing to use all of the Black Hand's resources to get her back, even if that means deploying our prison guards up north. That would mean reducing the prisoner population, but that's simple enough. Anything for Lady Gottschalk, as far as I'm concerned."

Agatha's eyes narrowed. "No…he can't mean…"

"What?" Jung turned to face Agatha. "What do you think he means?"

With her sweetest, most comforting tones, Agatha politely informed Volger and Adrian of the implications behind Adrian's orders.

"We're all going to die by the end of the week."

* * *

><p><strong>February 1<strong>**st**

Back and forth, Jung rocked in a huddled state, racked with fear from the information Agatha had given them about Adrian's next move.

"They're going to kill me," he whimpered, his patronizing nature dissolved under the crushing weight of his own mortality. "I won't be able to go home after all. Those bastards are going to blow a hole through my skull and dump me in some shallow grave in the middle of nowhere…"

As much as Volger wanted to comfort the lieutenant, he had to focus on the more-important matters at hand. If what that Darwinist dissident said was correct, their time was running short. His "connections" with Gottschalk might prove useless if she is trapped in enemy territory. How long would it be before Adrian wisened up and shot the both of them to free up his men for the rescue?

Jung screamed in torment, kicking over the pail in their room out of frustration and rage.

"Would you please calm down, Jung?" Volger demanded of him. "I'm trying to figure out how we can get out of this alive!"

"Calm down?" The lieutenant was shaking with uncontrollable anger. "_Calm down?_ I'm going to die tomorrow morning all alone," his voice steadily rising into a roar, "_and you expect me to calm down?_"

"We have to face death at a point in our lives!" Volger shot back, familiar with the dread that the lingering possibility of death created. "What defines us is how we go into it and come out of it!"

"No! Forget about your pointless obsession with acting noble everywhere! Forget about your pompousness and arrogance! Stop trying to rationalize everything and look at the facts – we failed! We won't be able to escape by tomorrow's dawn, and we already know what happens then!"

Volger withdrew the worm fabrication from his pocket, holding it out of view in case any guards patrolled by. It could be his ace in the hole, but he first had to figure out how to use it. From what he had seen and heard, most if not all of the Black Hand operatives here wore them in their ears when on-duty. Broadcasting a fake message to them could distract them for a time…but once they coordinated with each other and realized it was a hoax, his plan would be dead in the water. What he needed to do was find a way to incapacitate them for the duration of their escape.

Trying to drown out Jung's sniffling and moaning, Volger glanced at the halls outside of their cell, then at the worm squirming between his fingers. Two guards walked near their quarters as they conversed. Curiously, he snapped his fingers in front of the end that transmitted noise, causing both to wince and shake their heads.

Volger paused, taking in the implications of what he had seen. _This_ was an interesting development. Gradually, a plan of action began to surface within his thoughts.

"Listen closely," Volger whispered, "I know what-"

But he did not finish what he was going to say, as he was caught off-guard by what he saw: Jung was crying.

Hunched over on his bed, tears streaming down his face, Jung weakly sobbed. He no longer resembled the crass, insulting lieutenant that Volger had come to know; he looked like one of the many faces in a crowd of terrified soldiers about to be shipped out.

Though a small part of Volger thought it fitting for Jung to feel weak for once, he couldn't help but pity the poor man. He was in the prime of his life, yet he was consistently dealt the worst hands possible. Whether it was losing half of his limbs or getting captured by Darwinist rebels, he never could catch a break. Perhaps all of his hatred for Alek and Volger himself was a cover for his insecurities.

"Pull yourself together," he quietly ordered Jung, taking a seat beside him. "I have a plan to break us out of here."

Jung's face was redder than ever. Still sobbing, he wiped his eyes. "It won't work. Even if it did, why would you help me? You hate me, and don't you dare deny it!"

"I may not be fond of you, but we both share a common cause, and I refuse to let a comrade of mine die in the line of duty."

Jung shook his head, resting his face in his hands. "Don't get my hopes up; I'm almost adjusted to the idea of dying now."

Volger sighed. Time for a strategy that never failed. "Do you have anyone to go home to? Is there anyone that you care about?"

"Two…two sisters. I've been taking care of them since we were little. Half of my pay is going to them so they can keep eating."

When it came to leverage and motivation, nothing could snap a person out of shock quite like familial responsibilities. "If you die, you will disappoint them immensely. Not only that, but you will deprive them of the one source of income they have. Do you want that on your conscious?"

Jung looked up at him, having finally stopped crying. "No…no, I would never do that to them. For their sakes, I need to keep living." He adjusted the cuffs of his uniform. "Alright, I'll listen. What's my role in this plan of yours?"

"That, my friend, is the easiest step in the plan – I need you to be yourself."

* * *

><p><strong>February 2<strong>**nd**

Throughout the afternoon, the Black Hand lined up prisoner after prisoner into the messiest, filthiest room in the prison – the slaughterhouse, where fabrications not up-to-par with Gottschalk's standards were killed and recycled for meat and life chains. A large sewer grate adorned the center of the complex, its hinges rusted and stained by the blood of countless fabs sent to premature graves.

Whether the prisoners were Darwinist, Clanker, or somewhere in between was irrelevant: they knew in their guts that they had been dragged to this corner of the prison to be executed, though only a select few had deciphered why.

Volger was among that privileged few, along with Jung and Agatha, both of whom stood at the ready while he fished the worm fabrication out of his pockets. It was time to put this wretched thing to use, Volger thought. He may have softened to other fabrications, but the worm's inelegance and uncanny method of relaying orders struck an uncomfortable tone with him.

A few minutes after everyone was assembled, Adrian stepped into the slaughterhouse along with a half-dozen guards, leaving a total of twenty-four armed guards between them and potential freedom.

Adrian clapped his hands together, though the amusement and humor had been drained away by the news of Gottschalk's crash. "Ladies and gentlemen," he tersely said, "you all have worked wonders for the Austrian Darwinist Alliance and the Black Hand. However, your services are no longer needed. A situation has formed in upper Austria that requires our immediate attention, and I have decided to shift some of our forces from here to the front. That requires a reduction in our total prison population. So, unless some of you wish to defect…"

A few opportunistic folks tried to step forward, singing praises of Gottschalk in place of the slurs they had hurled a few days earlier. They were promptly shoved back by the soon-to-be executors.

"…No, you all cannot be trusted. I'm assuming you all don't have final words, so without further ado-"

"-Hold it, you idiotic milksops!"

Jung lunged out of the back of the crowd, suddenly front and center with more than a few bayonets at his throat.

"Is this it?" Jung cried, dropping into an unmistakably condescending tone. "Is that the best you can do? Oh, look how tough you all are, shooting unarmed men in the husk of a burnt-out prison! You must feel so brave right now!"

Adrian gritted his teeth in frustration. "Shoot him first," he hissed, about to walk out the door.

"Yeah, leave!" Jung shouted at Adrian, who immediately whipped around at the lieutenant. "Leave like the spineless worm you are! Can't stand the sight of blood? What, did you have to give up your guts to sign up as Gottschalk's lackey? Are you _that_ pathetic, you Darwinist sack of afterbirth?"

Volger had slipped towards the nearest guard. With a couple of meters between them, it would be riskier to reach his rifle, but with the right distraction…

"I will not tolerate insults from a lowly Clanker like yourself!" Adrian meekly protested. "Make an example of this one," he ordered the others, "then finish off the rest!"

Volger was within reaching distance of the rifle when everything fell into place.

Jung struck Adrian cleanly across the cheek, sending him sprawling into a guard. After which, the lieutenant was tackled by another of Adrian's cronies. This gave Volger the distraction he needed to take hold of the rifle's trigger, place the worm fabrication near the nozzle, and fire the weapon towards the ground.

A collective scream arose from the deafened Black Hand guards. Clutching their bleeding ears, they collapsed to the ground in shaking heaps.

Any of the guards that had the good fortune to not wear a worm fabrication were immediately pummeled to the ground by the masses of prisoners. They fell to the floor, taking keys from their fallen foes and testing them with each chain link, until they were released of their bonds one by one.

Given Volger's knack for falling into dangerous situations, he wasn't phased when an alarm began blaring, signaling that their escape would not go unnoticed. Likely, one of the few unhampered Darwinists saw their friends collapse and activated it.

Agatha positioned herself at the slaughterhouse's exit, gruffly kicking a half-conscious Adrian on the way there.

"Listen up, everyone!" she yelled over the commotion, quickly gaining the attention of the prisoners. "We have a chance to get out of here, but our time's gonna run short. They know we're coming, and I doubt that every last one of them will have lodged those beasties in their ears. We need to hit the docking bay hard and fast, and make off with as many airbeasts as we can." Raising a rifle over her head, she cried, "Who's with me? Let's take the fight to them!"

The newly-freed prisoners let out a roar of approval, most of whom joined Agatha as she charged out of the slaughterhouse towards the docking bay. Volger, being one of the few remaining, helped Jung off the floor. He had already informed Agatha of his intentions not to charge out with the rest of the men and women - instead, he had asked for a select few to remain with in order to attack the docking bay from a different angle. Since the defenders would be occupied with intruders from one direction, they might not be as prepared from an assault on their rear flank.

"You did remarkably well as a distraction." Volger brushed off the lieutenant's coat, giving him support on the way onto his feet.

"Well…" Jung sheepishly smiled, "I've had a lot of prior experience. Anyhow, what's our exit strategy?"

Volger and Jung hobbled their way down the hall along with four other prisoners, following the echoes of gunshots towards their destination.

"Get to an airbeast," he explained. "Fly it close to Vienna." They weaved around collapsed Black Hand guards that littered the ground. "Warn them about Gottschalk." Closer and closer they got to the docking bay, navigating the twists and turns of the prison grounds. "Then, we…"

Volger and Jung both stopped, the former of whom felt as if his legs were going to collapse under him. Their fellow prisoners came to a halt not long afterwards.

"Join your pals in the morgue," a deep voice declared.

Standing between them and freedom was one of Gottschalk's elite guards, covered from head to toe in thick, organic armor. Cold, unflinching eyes glared out at them from the glass visor. The barrel of a clunky, half-fabricated and half-mechanical weapon was pointed in their direction.

"I might not have been ready to catch your escapee comrades," the guard continued, "but I'll be sure to make up for it with you all."

Volger swore under his breath. This plan was turning out worse than he had anticipated, and the odds weren't favorable in the first place. Behind him, he heard exchanges of colorful language from his allies, who realized their weapons wouldn't punch through that kind of armor.

"You and I will need to run, no matter what," he whispered to Jung, "Take the left, I'll take the right. At least one of us should make it out alive."

Suddenly, the wall beside the elite guard blasted open, crashing him against the ground in a mess of rubble. From the newly-created hole, a gas-masked face peered at them, before entering with a small squadron of soldiers.

German soldiers, to be exact.

None other than the colonel from the weapon demonstration led the group, steam pipes still protruding from his uniform, which had been rolled up to reveal his mechanical arms. He approached the dazed elite guard, glancing over his armor with hints of amusement as another soldier handed him a heavy-caliber_ Herstullung-Gewehr_. He propped its barrel carefully against the armored portion of the helmet.

Volger looked away as an exceptionally-loud shot rang out.

Realizing that Volger and Jung were present, Colonel Dietrich laughed in enthusiasm, propped the rifle over his shoulder, and ran towards them with his men close by.

"God's wounds, how convenient this is! Here I thought we would be searching for you all over this facility. But," he chuckled, "Volger, you came right here, right at the spot we were going to begin our infiltration at! What luck! What…_convenience_! That nearly completes our mission, thank God, but there is still work to be done."

Volger wasn't sure whether he was blessed with the good fortune to have that Titan out of the picture, or the poor luck to be in the hands of a German commando unit.

Jung half-stared at the Germans, equally as confused as Volger on what to think. "T-thank you, Colonel, but we've got a problem that requires our immediate attention. Up north, near Vienna, Gott-"

"-Honestly, it is rather tragic to find you here, Volger," Dietrich said, ignoring Jung and the other prisoners. "I-well, I suppose Alek will be heartbroken when he hears the news. His poor guardian, Wildcount Volger, found dead in a Black Hand prison camp at the hands of Darwinist aggressors. It might inspire sadness in him. Hopefully, this will be supplanted by rage, then by a desire for revenge. A desire, I pray, that will lead him off of his morally-bankrupt path and into working with me."

With that, the Germans pointed great many pistols at Volger's torso.

Yes, he thought, this was some undeniably poor luck.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know, I know, I'm late. **

**Breaking one of my own rules here. Under normal circumstances, this should be a Barlow chapter, but nothing really worked out in relation to the plot. So, in keeping with the tradition, here's a Volger chapter as a substitute.**

**As always, thanks to eisceire for doing a beta for this chapter.**


	29. Release

Chapter 29

"Release"

**Graz, Austria**

**February 2****nd****, 1917**

All it took were the faintly-heard threats that Dietrich hurled at Volger to send Alek into a desperate panic. Without a thought for self-preservation or his team's quiet infiltration of the prison, he bolted for the closest stairwell to him, barely keeping himself from stumbling down the damaged steps in search of Volger, all while Deryn bolted after him and yelled at him to get back with the rest of them.

"No, no, no," Alek nervously muttered to himself, trying to keep calm even as Volger was staring down death. "Not now, not like this. Please, anywhere but here…"

As he and Deryn had discovered upon leading their rag-tag band of confidants into the rebel-held prison, fighting had already engulfed the complex. Though the multi-story building had its fair share of wear and tear from the war, it looked far better in the photographs they had been given than it did in person. With all of its cracks and damaged supports, he was amazed that the place hadn't collapsed in on itself yet.

He shook the thought away. "Best not to tempt fate…"

He didn't have a plan of action for when he confronted the Germans. Best case scenario, he would be able to talk some sense into their leader and have them stand down. He doubted they would listen to him, which meant it would boil down to one short-sighted ex-prince against a group of highly-trained German commandos carrying experimental weapons. Deryn might've liked those odds, but he didn't get his hopes up whenever he was horrendously outnumbered.

"Alek!" the cries behind him grew closer. "Get back here, you barking ninny!"

Speaking of Deryn…

"Have you lost your mind?" she cried, huffing and puffing after speeding ahead of him and cutting him off. "You're the one who told us to stick together! This isn't the time to be splitting up!"

Alek tried to slip past her, only for her to block his every move. "Didn't you hear anything that German said?" he asked, trying to push past Deryn without much progress. "We don't have time to wait! Volger can't stall those people forever! I'm going to help him, and you're not going to stop me!"

Deryn briefly faced Alek, conflicted as she eventually said, "Then I'm coming with you. We stand a better chance if we work together." She pulled a Disruptor fab from her satchel and dropped it onto her right arm. Its legs quickly wrapped around her, securing itself for the inevitable fight ahead.

Below them, Volger's comments to Dietrich were getting cut short, with him trying to appeal to the colonel's sense of Clanker comradery and human decency in vain. All the while, Dietrich sounded less and less amiable, as if he couldn't bring himself to shoot them yet, but was looking for an excuse to do so. Alek and Deryn shared a look of pure dread before descending the next flight of stairs. Alek wondered how long the wildcount could distract Dietrich before the German lost his patience. The two of them crept out into the hallway, which put them behind Volger, Jung, and a few prisoners who had tagged along with them.

And, as it turned out, in the same direction the Germans were facing.

A frightening smirk cemented itself on Dietrich's face. "Well, well, well! Prince Aleksandar has graced us with his presence after all!"

Alek shivered. The German colonel had made his desires to "help" Alek clear by breaking off the ex-prince's connections to the Darwinists by any means necessary. He hadn't assumed Dietrich would go this far, though.

"Good thing you arrived in time," Dietrich continued, acting as if he hadn't just threatened to kill his closest ally and frame it on the Darwinists, "Wildcount Volger was nearly attacked by one of Gottschalk's elite guards! My men and I disposed of him, of course, in the fashion any good ally of yours would."

Volger, still holding Jung up, had the sense to fall back behind Alek and Deryn. Relief washing over Alek, he resisted the urge to take his mentor up in a sweeping hug.

"You shouldn't have come here, Your Serene Highness," Volger muttered. "Gottschalk's trapped in Loyalist territory, and unless you can find your way there and end the offensive, this war might escalate even further."

Alek vigorously shook his head. "I won't leave you behind, Volger. You mean far too much to me!"

"And your survival means more to me than my own life! I promised your father I would ensure your safety, and thus far, I have been going about it poorly!"

Deryn nudged Alek. "Both of you, talk it out later! We've got bigger issues right ahead of us!"

Both Alek and Deryn had their weapons pointed at the German, which didn't amount to that much of a threat compared to his dozen-man commando group's array of machine pistols and armor-piercing rifles at their disposal. Even with the nigh-unlimited energy of Deryn's Disruptor and his Mauser carbine, they wouldn't hold up long if one side or another started shooting.

"Colonel, I mean you and your men no harm," Alek forced out, trying not to step on any toes. "Wildcount Volger's life is dear to me, and I would rather not have him endangered by your actions."

"My actions? Why, Aleksandar, whatever makes you think I was going to harm him?"

Before Alek could stop her, Deryn railed at Dietrich, "Don't be daft! We heard you going on about how much you wanted to blow Volger's brains out and blame it on the rebels! You're nothing but a coward trying to come off all proper and polite!"

The colonel pursed his lips. "I have been called a lot of rude names before, but 'coward' is a new one for me. Tell me, would a coward risk his life – and career – to help reform a wayward prince who helped my allies lose the war?"

Alek wished that the rest of his followers would figure out where they went and arrive soon. With them on his side, they might be able to distract Dietrich long enough to escape. Or, if the worst happened, then they would have enough manpower to stand their ground against the Germans.

Until then, he would have to play Dietrich's game and keep him talking.

"You're utterly daft," Deryn hissed. Alek appreciated having her distract Dietrich while he was mulling over potential escapes, though he was growing worried that she would push the colonel too far. Her Disruptor wavering between Germans whenever one would step out of line. "Alek didn't join the Darwinists because he hated the Clankers! He only did it because you lot killed his family, then tried to kill him! Maybe if your friends hadn't stabbed him in the back, then he would have helped you!"

"You are correct. A stabbing-in-the-back did occur, but Alek's mother and father were only precautions taken to ensure the war wouldn't continue to escalate. It was all for a selfless cause, something you should understand."

A shot of anger surged through Alek, but he kept quiet while Dietrich continued talking. "There is a traitor in this room, a man who poisoned young, naïve Aleksandar's mind into believing his countrymen would harm him. Isn't that right, Count Volger?"

"Oh, come off it!" Deryn cried, continuing to provoke the Germans against Alek's wishes. "You can spin it any way you'd like, but Alek made his own choice when he came to our side! His – not Volger's, or Klopp's, or Barlow's, or even mine! And he won't bend over backwards to make you happy, I can tell you that much!"

For the first time since they had arrived, Jung spoke up. He used Volger to straighten himself up while he said, "Look, whatever your name is - Colonel Dirtbag, Dimwit, I honestly can't remember - you're wasting your time threatening Alek and Volger here! I have no idea what you hope to gain by passively-aggressively threatening us, but every second here costs us a chance to nab Gottschalk! If you remember, the last time you Krauts went around attacking Clankers, it cost us the war! Or, have you already deluded yourself into thinking it was a minor setback, like those pipes on your back you probably think look anything other than moronic?"

Initially taken aback at Jung's remarks, Dietrich chuckled, muttering a faint order: "Make sure he survives; I'd like a private word with him." His followers treaded carefully behind him, weapons at the ready to strike them down at any signs of a struggle. Unconsciously, Alek backed up, but stood his ground when he saw the others not budging an inch.

"I don't think you understand the situation, so let me break it down for you. First of all," Dietrich swept his arms around the hall, "look around at this place! You can't hope to put up a good fight here, not with my numbers and your sub-par equipment. Second, even if you try to run, there's a good chance the Darwinists will finish you off before I can. Third – and this is the most important point – you won't put your allies at risk, Aleksandar. You know it, I know it, and they should know it by now.

"So, please, hand yourself over to me, and we can put this sad story to a close. I enjoyed it at first, but now it's gone on so long that it's grating on my nerves."

Torn between his distrust and resentment for the Germans and his devotion to Deryn and Volger, Alek was so consumed by his thoughts that the next few moments seemed to mesh together and come at an instant.

Barreling down behind Dietrich's men came a band of Black Hand guards accompanied by a few fabs, yelling about a riot that was threatening to overtake their airfield. The Serbian fellow from Gottschalk's ill-fated meeting with him, Adrian, was leading the front. Many of them were clutching one of their blood-stained ears with an expression of overwhelming discomfort plastered on their faces.

The Germans, overhearing the threat, barked at each other and split themselves between keeping Alek and the others covered and focusing on the new threat. Dietrich seemed more amused than anything, turning away from Alek to face the not-quite-as-stalwart rebel commander.

Stopping themselves short, the Black Hand guards seemed unsure of what to make of the Germans at their doorstep. Adrian stomped close to Dietrich, making an effort to seem intimidating, and failing miserably due to his roughed-up and uninspiring appearance. He yelled at the German colonel that they were interfering with the affairs of Anastasia Gottschalk, and that they had no quarrel with the Germans after their non-aggression pact, and that he would see to it that the Kaiser hear of their rudeness in a strongly-worded letter.

Then Adrian caught glimpses of Volger, Jung, and Alek, hissing, "You people…you ruined everything!" at them.

Dietrich drew a long officer's pistol from his coat and shot one of Adrian's subordinates in the chest.

With that, the gunshots began ringing out in a rapid, staccato pace, sending the cramped hallway into a vicious firefight. Volger and Jung dropped to the ground just as Deryn and Alek fell into prone positions. The prisoners behind them, too slow to react, were quickly blasted to shreds in the ensuing chaos.

A frenzy of mechanical and fabricated weapons fired in an unending frenzy, bullets flying alongside electrical bolts and acid bursts, all impacting with such force that the unstable walls of the compound seemed unlikely to hold up much longer.

Alek wanted all of the killing to stop. Gottschalk's words affected him more than he cared to admit, but he saw no other way out of the battle. He jammed on the trigger of his carbine until it clicked empty, just as Deryn was exhausting the poor Disruptor by forcing it to release bolt after bolt of electricity.

Both sides fell quickly, though time stretched on slowly and deliberately during the fight. In a few moments of clarity amid the chaos, he noticed that Dietrich's coat was blocking bolts of electricity from the rebels and Deryn, the energy fading out as it connected with it. His metallic arms whirred and his exhaust pipes churned out more steam as he tore through the closest Black Hand guards.

He only stopped to grab Adrian by his throat. With a flourish, his hand began spinning, and the rebel commander's neck was twisted in a way the human body wasn't meant to support. As soon as Dietrich let go of him, the Serbian man plopped on the ground lifelessly.

Everything else blurred, and it wasn't until all of the Germans and Darwinists lay dead or heavily-wounded that he realized Dietrich had only suffered minor injuries, but was also within an arm's reach of them.

A powerful blow from Dietrich knocked Alek onto Volger and Jung. Stars seemed to float around his eyes as he rapidly blinked, trying to regain control of his senses. The carbine had fallen out of his hands somewhere next to Deryn, who-

-_Mein Gott_, Alek thought, _Deryn_. Her Disruptor crushed to a pulp, Deryn desperately parried Dietrich's blows with a fallen lead pipe, losing ground with each of his attacks.

She was strong, especially for a girl, but her odds against a mechanically-augmented soldier with more than a decade of combat experience were slim. Her swings with the pipe, whichever way they were angled, were all effortlessly dodged by Dietrich. In turn, every one of his blows were too fast to dodge, forcing her to block blow after blow with too little time to strike back. Every time she blocked a series of punches she attempted a counterattack, only for her strikes to be narrowly evaded at each turn. Left, right, up, down – it didn't matter, he always reacted quicker than she could. She yelled at the colonel as she broke free from another barrage, attempting an overhead strike with both of her hands grasping the pipe.

Dietrich smirked and struck the Scottish girl hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her and leaving her gasping for air.

Alek screamed her name as the colonel backhanded her against a wall.

Ignoring every protest his body gave – the blurriness of his vision, the pain shooting along his face – he got on his feet, taking Deryn's improvised melee weapon up as he charged Dietrich.

"Will you ever learn?" Dietrich sneered at him, casually sidestepping Alek's swipe and gripping the boy's neck when he faltered.

"You're no fighter-" he threw Alek against the cold floor, the ex-prince crying out as his back crashed into the ground.

Somehow, Volger managed to take hold of Alek's fallen gun. He pointed it at the colonel and ordered him to stand down. However, by the time he had pulled the trigger and realized it was empty, Dietrich had delivered an uppercut that knocked him out cold.

Alek barely had time to get up before he was roughly shoved to the floor.

"-You're no soldier-" Dietrich kneeled over Alek, punching him repeatedly in the face. Alek felt himself slipping away from consciousness with each hit.

"-And you're certainly no hero! You're a traitor to your own people, and an expendable asset to our enemies." Dietrich stopped striking Alek to draw out a long-barreled Luger pistol. The cold end of the barrel was pressed against his forehead. "And I had such great plans for you…"

Behind them, Deryn dragged herself to the fallen Darwinists, turning over bodies and barely-living guards in search of a still-functioning beastie to use. On the opposite side, Jung took hold of Volger and tried to drag him to safety, his missing leg preventing them from moving.

"N-no," Alek whispered, forcing himself to remain conscious amid the painful thumping in his head. "I'm not a traitor. Everything I did was to ensure that no one else would have to die for the Darwinists or Clankers. I wanted to make peace for our time."

A bitter, surprised laugh came from Dietrich. "And where has that gotten you? Back where it all started you, with enough blood on your hands to keep a hemophiliac going for months!" He pulled the gun away from Alek and aimed it at Volger and Jung. Alek's head was pushed to the other side, tilting his view towards Deryn, who had a fresh Disruptor attached to her arm. "You're a failure, plain and simple. And, had it not been for that traitor of a count, you would have accomplished much more."

To his own surprise, Alek laughed along with him. "You know what? You're right. In that sense, I am a failure."

Deryn pulled herself up, her fabricated weapon shaking as she aimed it at Dietrich.

"But, unlike you, _I'm going to survive long enough to fix that_."

Deryn tore off Dietrich's coat and, upon twisting him around to face her, kicked him off of Alek and blasted him again and again with the Disruptor, shocking the German colonel with enough volts to fry a walker's internal components. He could barely let a scream out before it was cut short, his own mechanical parts shorting out and failing on him. The force pushed him against a wall, Deryn continuing to electrocute the German all the while. Unable to control himself, he twitched involuntarily from the sudden malfunctions of his artificial limbs. Even after he stopped responding, she continued to let loose with the Disruptor until he had nearly ignited.

Still shaken from the vicious beating, Alek exerted the last bits of his strength to limp beside Volger. Alek breathed easier when he heard Volger's heart continuing to beat. The wildcount was coughing lightly and shaking off the blow to the head he had been dealt, but he was still alive.

Deryn weakly smiled at Alek, and he returned the favor, keeping a stupid grin plastered on his face even as his legs gave out.

She yelled something at him that he couldn't quite make it out. He also became faintly aware of Boesch, Ashton, and Goldstein clamoring around beside him. Alek saw Boesch removing some items from his medical satchel while his eyes closed against his will. The sensation of hands gripping his sides and lifting him up became less noticeable every second.

A barrage of images hit him as he fell in and out of focus: a dirty prison cell that looked ready for an execution, a blinding light, a number of airbeasts taking flight, a group of dissenting Austrian Darwinists surrounding them.

Then, before sleep overtook him, he could barely make out the hushed sounds of air rushing all around him.

* * *

><p>Alek awoke in a stiff, though not entirely uncomfortable, bed that had been lightly furnished by a faded blanket and some threadbare sheets. A dull pain wracked his brain, and he groaned as he lifted his head up to see his surroundings.<p>

Judging by the assortment of airbeast equipment and the sun shining at a much lower angle through the windows, he assumed he had been taken aboard a rebel fabrication. The captain's room, or whatever equivalent there was for this, was scarce compared to the lavishness of the _Leviathan_'s. Only the bare essentials were stocked for an emergency.

By his side sat Deryn, who gently took his chin in her hand after he had got up. "Rise and shine, Alek," she whispered. "You feeling alright?"

"I'm fine." A sharp, brief jolt of pain in his head forced him to reconsider. "Well, I've been worse. Where are we, anyway?"

"You're aboard one of the beasties the dissenting rebels commandeered. They've been fancying me a hero since I almost nabbed Gottschalk, so…" She beamed at him, proudly proclaiming, "You're looking at the captain of the newly-coined _Nephilim_."

"God's wounds…this airbeast is _yours_?" he replied, utterly shocked at both the rebels' generosity and their own good luck.

"Aye, and I'm using it to get our lot where they're needed. That means Volger, Boesch, Ashton, the other Clankers we brought with us…oh, and that Jung fellow I can't stand."

Taking hold of Alek's arm, Deryn helped him on his feet. They both faced the windows, where they skimmed over puffy white clouds over the Austrian countryside. The green hills and dense forests stood as still as always, damaged by the fighting but not destroyed. Far ahead of them, thick plumes of smoke rose over the haze-covered blip of a city in the distance.

"Vienna," Alek muttered to himself. He didn't want to imagine the destruction the capital must be experiencing from the battle.

"Aye, where the Darwinist rebels and the Clankers have massed together to duke it out. Gottschalk's somewhere in that mess. If I had to guess, I would say she's in Loyalist hands right now. Otherwise, the rebels would have backed down a long time ago."

They were going to keep fighting until one side dropped dead, Alek realized. The Clankers would fight tooth and nail to hold onto their new prize. If they could get Gottschalk to a safe location, they would be able to make any demands with the Austrian Darwinist Alliance. Perhaps the major Darwinist powers would be eager to trade for her as well. Given the sheer number of advances she made with fabricated weapons, organizations like the Zoological Society would pay top dollar to have that kind of expertise on their side.

On the opposite side of that coin were the rebels, still reeling from the failed _coup d'état_ against Gottschalk. He had no idea how many of them would be willing to fight for their former leader, or how many would abandon the prospect of fighting for a woman intent on dragging out the war as long as she could. Maybe they would simply take advantage of the chaos to strike at the Clankers' largest arteries, the airstrips outside of Vienna.

Fueled by the revelations, Alek came to a conclusion. "It has to stop here, Deryn. The fighting, the killing, this whole civil war. If this goes any further, Austria will be cast into the Dark Ages for years to come."

"I agree, but…how do you suppose we'll stop it?"

Flatly, he said, "I haven't the faintest clue."

Deryn's hand squeezed his. "Then we'll figure it out as we go along, like we always do."

Taking her in his arms, Alek surrounded himself with her warmth. He rested her head against his shoulder, which was rather difficult given the difference in height they shared. Still, he felt reassured in his convictions, which was more than enough to keep him going.

"Love you, _mein leuchtender stern_."

"Love you too, you daft ninny."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Apologies for the two-month long gap between 28 and 29. I got sidetracked from writing for most of June and July, and forgot to get back to work on the fanfic until recently. Special thanks to eisceire for helping to edit this chapter!**

**Deryn calling her airbeast the _Nephilim _continues the tradition of naming airbeasts biblical and mythical names. In this instance, the Nephilim were giants that inhabited the land of Canaan in the Old Testament.**

**Up next - well, best not to make any promises that I might end up breaking...**


	30. Flight Delay

Chapter 30

"Flight Delay"

**February 2nd, 1917**

**Aboard the **_**Nephilim**_

As the rightful captain of the newly-christened _Nephilim_, Deryn made sure to get to know the airbeast's inner workings in the lull between her crew's escape and the eventual fight in Vienna.

The beastie was far smaller than the _Leviathan_; in fact, you could line a few like hers up front-to-back and it might just barely match the size of her former home. According to the disgruntled Darwinist rebels that gave it to her, the frills and offensive capabilities of its class had been sacrificed so it could act as a troop transport.

True to their word, it was as basic as it could get: its outer membrane was as thin as it could be without becoming vulnerable to hail or sleet, to the point where a dozen stray bullets or so would easily drop it to the ground. There was no room for a flechette bat nest or a rookery for strafing hawks. Neither bombs nor gas shells were stored in its cramped cargo hold, just essential supplies and crates of firearms shoved aside to give soldiers room to disembark.

On the upside, this meant that she could race through the air at exhilarating speeds that the _Leviathan_ could never hope to reach, and that a skeleton crew of a few knowledgeable people could keep the beastie flying. In a way, she had a crew, as Alek had scraped together a motley team of disillusioned Clankers over the objections of some glory-hound named Waechter. Most of them knew little of Darwinism other than some ways to kill beasties, and as such, seemed disgusted at Deryn's insistence that they board it. They only got on board when Deryn convinced them there were no other ways out of the prison's walls that wouldn't strand them in rebel territory.

And, as Deryn had started to realize, they were still grappling with their deeply-engrained distrust of Darwinist advances and the airbeast's harmlessness as they tried to pass time in the crew's quarters. This became more apparent when she left Alek in the captain's quarters to check up on Volger and the others, only to be greeted by arguing when she stepped into their bunk room.

"God, have you seen this abomination?" a voice, seemingly Ashton's, cried. "It's disgusting! All these organs and quivering internals…what sort of freak show did Dylan cram us into?"

The second voice was unfamiliar yet much calmer; she suspected it belonged to that Boesch fellow. "I don't know if it's that bad. Alek rode in things like these for years, and he didn't turn out too bad. Plus, Sharp saved both of us, so if he's in charge, I think we can trust him."

Deryn popped open the door. Ashton, Boesch, Volger, and Jung were playing cards on the floor, the first of whom had a mat spread under her to avoid sitting directly on the airbeast. Jung looked physically and emotionally drained, as if the usual quips and hateful remarks had left him following that prison break Volger had orchestrated. Ashton eyed everything in the room – including Deryn herself – with paranoia and disgust. Boesch seemed a little curious. Every so often, he would stick his hand out and touch the walls and floor, rubbing the living material that Clanker ships never utilized. Volger, having gotten used to airbeasts long ago, looked at the _Nephilim_ as another minor inconvenience.

"_Mr._ Sharp, it took you long enough to find us," Volger commented, not looking up from his poker hand. "How long until we reach Vienna?"

"Probably another half-hour or so. When we touch down, we need to track down Gottschalk as soon as we can. Hopefully, we can use her to make her loyal rebels stand down while Alek does the same to the hardline Clankers."

Ashton snorted in disgust. "Good luck getting those savages to listen to reason. Gottschalk will just goad them on into fighting us along with the others." She drew a card, cringing as she added a two of clubs to her hand. "Speaking of savage things, why did you haul us into this…_creature_ anyway? Weren't there any normal airships to commandeer?"

Deryn ignored her obvious contempt for Darwinism. Alek had off-handedly mentioned the girl's rough upbringing in England to her before. Unlike Jung, whose hatred of Darwinism was mostly superficial and only used to rile people up, Ashton genuinely despised the Darwinists and everything they stood for. Well, if the English girl hoped to convince anyone to act as hatefully as she did, she was going to end up disappointed.

"What, did you think the rebels were making barking _airships_ in that prison? Don't be daft, the only Clanker tech around for miles were a couple of banged-up Tyrant walkers. Besides, you've ridden in one of these before, remember?"

"Don't remind me. I was overjoyed when we had to ditch that airbeast in the escape."

Deryn had previously stolen an Austrian Darwinist airbeast when the fight in Graz turned disastrous. She had used it to slip into Gottschalk's headquarters, breaking out Alek along with Boesch and Ashton. However, it had taken a few shots during a scuffle with the Black Hand, forcing them to abandon the exhausted beastie close to the city limits of Vienna.

"It still saved your bum, didn't it? Just be grateful that it got us as far as it did."

Ashton dropped back onto the ground and continued to watch her luck worsen in poker. If she was grateful for the rescue, she wasn't showing it.

Not that Deryn needed the praise anyway. To her, being able to sail the sky aboard an airbeast of any size was a reward of its own. In some of the older missions the Society had sent her on, she had been given Huxleys and gliders to work with, but never anything close to commanding her own airbeast. It made her feel complete. She had started off learning the ropes as an airman aboard the _Leviathan_, and two years later she was the captain of her own crew.

A sudden jolt from the _Nephilim_ nearly threw her off-balance along with the others, spilling their deck of cards as well. Steadying herself, Deryn muttered a curse and peered out the nearest porthole. "Clart, any idea what caused that?" she asked them.

Amid the simultaneous cursing of Ashton and Jung, Volger spoke up. "If you mean the powerful shaking, then no, _Mr._ Sharp, I haven't the faintest clue."

Another violent shudder rocked the beastie. Boesch took to the nearest porthole beside her, pressing his face against the fabricated glass. "What do you think it was? Are we getting some turbulence?"

"Blisters, it's possible, but that felt too strong a shake for a bit of turbulence."

Deryn ran to the other side of the _Nephilim_. Compared to the _Leviathan_, she could walk from one side of this airbeast to another and reach there within the time sprinting across her old home would take. She glanced all around the clear sky and scattered cloud patches, but couldn't see a thing that would cause the shaking.

Then she looked up.

Three airbeasts, somewhat larger than hers and sporting thicker membranes, were descending upon her quickly. The frontmost one had a lass secured to the cargo hold with a Disruptor beastie in her arms. She fired off another bolt at Deryn's airbeast, briefly causing her heart to go wild and imagine the the hydrogen inside the _Nephilim_ sparking up – but it only produced another shake. Maybe Gottschalk had thought ahead with these beasties and spliced insulating life chains into them. The only damage being dealt was from the force of the blasts, but Deryn's gut told her the beastie could withstand them.

The other two pulled ahead of and dove below the _Nephilim_, blocking off any easy escape paths. Deryn caught glimpses of rebel gunners in similar positions to the lass as they passed. She wondered how their airbeasts had crept up on them while being bigger than her own. Had the three airbeasts been tailing them while she had been looking after Alek? She had been paying more attention to her injured ex-prince than to the skies...

She dashed back to the crew's quarters, frantically pointing to the last places she had seen the airbeasts and pulling the Clankers out of their comfort zones. "Get up, get up! We're being surrounded!"

"What _are_ you doing?" Jung cried.

"No time to talk!" Deryn forced out one thought after another, scrambling to find a way out of this blockade. "They found us! The rebels with Gottschalk, the Black Hand; I don't know who's running them, but we have three barking airbeasts surrounding us! Get to your stations, and I'll meet up with Alek and figure something out!"

"Our stations? Dylan, you never told us what our stations are..."

"Just – look, we're on borrowed time! Get to the cargo hold and storage room, grab whatever guns and beasties you can find, and meet up front with Alek and me! I'll take care of the planning, but you all need to move _now!_"

The four Clankers ran as quickly as they could with the airbeast taking hits and one of them making do with an artificial leg. Deryn made her way back to Alek, bracing herself against the inner membrane to keep her balance as the sporadic bolts continued to land. She called out Alek's name, hoping he would be in a good enough condition to take the wheel if necessary.

Outside, she could barely make out someone shouting over the chaos.

"Listen up!" yelled one of the rebels. "Whoever's running this airbeast had better go topside real quick! If we find out this beastie's been stolen by some escaped Clankers, we're shooting him down!"

Blisters, thought Deryn, they were going to blow her and everyone else out of the sky. But they hadn't done it yet. Were they really going to shoot the _Nephilim_ down if she didn't meet with them in time? Or, were they hesitating and trying to bluff their way out of a fight?

She would have to figure that out later. For now, she needed to get to Alek.

She was out-of-breath from all the mad dashing when she knocked open the door to the wheelhouse. Still stumbling from the Nephilim's shakes, she only got a few steps through the door before colliding with something…or, as it turned out, someone. Alek and Deryn fell to the floor and were back on their feet in an instant.

Alek gently rubbed his bruised head. "I was just about to get you, Deryn. I take it you've noticed our unwanted guests?"

Taking off her coat, Deryn wrapped it around her hand and smashed open an emergency kit below the wheel. She dragged out its contents as fast as she could, hoping they would tip the scales in their favor.

The only things inside were a signal pistol and three phosphorus flares. Staring at them in disbelief, she grunted and stuffed the pistol and the rounds in her trousers anyway.

Deryn slipped the scuffed-up coat over her light shirt. "Can you fly this beastie, Alek? I can't risk having you go topside after that thrashing Dietrich gave you, and you've got enough experience aboard the _Leviathan_ to know how it works."

Alek leaned over the array of gauges, switches, and wheels below the front windows. "I've got the gist of things. Promise me you'll make it back, _liebe_?"

Deryn grinned and spun Alek around, lightly kissing him. "Aye, don't worry. I can handle myself."

Behind them, Volger loudly sighed. Deryn and Alek quickly broke apart their kiss, their cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Barking spiders, don't sneak up on us!"

Volger rolled his eyes. "You should try to exercise some more restraint. Had I been Jung or any of our other colorful companions, you might have had to do some explaining."

A brief moment after, Jung pushed his way into the quarters. Ashton and Boesch lagged behind, dragging a beaten-up wooden box with the word "Armaments" crudely drawn over its faded green paint job. They dropped the box and moved alongside the others.

"This is all we could find, Dylan," Ashton said.

Deryn pried open the box cautiously, hoping for either heavy weaponry or a way to distract the airbeasts as they drew closer. As she had feared, they had scraped the bottom of the barrel with this stockpile: the box had been mostly been looted, except for two Mondragon rifles, a heavy American pistol that she had seen the Doughboys put to good use in the trenches, a half-starved Disruptor beastie, and a grappling hook with plenty of rope.

Astonished at their misfortune, she picked up the hook, touching it just in case she was losing it and not seeing the rest of their supplies. "Are you telling me," she hissed, "that this is all we have to defend ourselves?"

Boesch nodded. "It seems that way. What should we do, Sharp?"

Deryn knew exactly what they had to do, though she hoped that a moment like this would never come.

As part of her training with Zoological Society, she and Alek were taught how to "deal with" rogue airbeasts and other fabrications. Naturally, she struggled, as any loyal Darwinist would. Fighting a machine and fighting a fabrication were two entirely different jobs. Shooting down an airship was simple since it could feel no pain. There was a chance for zero deaths if the crew evacuated fast enough. With an airbeast, something or someone would always end up dying in the process, like the _Leviathan_ almost did in the early days of the Great War.

"Alek, you take the wheel and get yourself ready to fly us out of here. Volger, give Alek all the help he needs up front. Whatever he tells you to do, just do it! The beastie will have some degree of control over where it flies. Don't worry, that's a good thing! They're top-notch at slipping out of dangerous spots like these."

Deryn handed Boesch the rifles and Ashton the electric fabrication, while Alek began explaining to the repulsed girl how to work the beastie. Deryn loaded the pistol and strapped both it and the grappling hook to her belt. "Ashton, come up top with me. Be ready for a fight, and whatever you do, always have a good spot you can hold onto in case we need to make some sharp turns. Boesch and Jung, open the cargo hold and put those rifles to good use. Not sure how durable their airbeasts are, but now's a good time to find out!"

Everyone scrambled to their stations. While Alek and Volger got to work managing duties up front, Deryn and her companions went to the topside hatch of the _Nephilim_. Boesch and Jung passed them with the arms crate in tow.

Deryn gripped the first rung of the ladder roughly. She knew that, the moment she got up top, she would be a sitting duck should the rebels choose to use her for target practice. And, if they decided to go easy on her, she would still have to be careful with the rough winds this high up.

Deryn took hold of the second, then the third, then climbed up until she was close enough to unfasten a bendable square piece of the membrane. She roughly pushed it up, and was greeted by a strong, unending gust of wind. She pushed through it and hauled herself onto the top of her airbeast. It didn't matter how grim the odds were; the lives of her friends and crew were at stake, and there was no way she would let them down without a fight.

Two of the rebel airbeasts had their open cargo holds pointed at them, with one to two sharpshooters aiming at her. With one beside them and one blocking their front, there had to be one below them as well. If the shooting started again, they would be on the defensive until they could escape the blockade.

The airbeast to the their flank flew closer. Two more rebels emerged from the shadows of the cargo hold, while the familiar-looking lass in front lowered her Disruptor slightly.

"Oh clart," cried Deryn. "_Moira?_ What are you doing with them?"

Moira paled at the sight of her former ally. "You should have stayed below, Dylan!" she yelled, more guilty-sounding than threatening. "They might have only taken your crew prisoner if they hadn't seen you!"

Two boys her age walked up behind Moira. Just like their Irish ally, they grew deathly pale at the sight of Deryn. She wondered what they were so frightened of.

"'If they hadn't seen me?' Moira, what do you mean-"

The rebels behind Moira reeled back. "It's Agent Sharp! If we let him through, he'll tear our fighters in Vienna apart just like he did in Salzburg and Graz! We have to stop him now!"

The rebel airbeast pulled back. The howl of the wind was the only noise that continued as Deryn reached for the pistol and grappling hook. Her fingers were twitching, and she was getting so tense that she almost pulled her gun on Ashton when she had joined her topside.

"They're not letting us go," Deryn said to her. "Be ready for anything."

Moira, looking even more ashamed of herself than ever, fired off the first shot far from where Deryn and Ashton were standing. The electricity of her Disruptor's bolt dissipated harmlessly against the side of the _Nephilim_, but that was all it took to signal the rebel onslaught.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This was once a behemoth (haha) of a chapter, clocking in at nearly 6600 words. For the sake of readability, it has been split into two parts, with the second piece coming in a couple of days. Don't worry, this cliffhanger won't go unresolved for long!**

**Chances are that you all have noticed the large gaps between chapters. Believe me, I am not abandoning this fanfic or growing tired of writing it. The reason for the delay is simple: with the ending getting nearer and nearer, I want to be sure that each new chapter fits into the story's framework and resolves as much as possible. I want to be sure you all get the best conclusion possible.**

**"Doughboy" was slang for American soldiers in the latter years of WWI. They were well-fed and fresh-faced compared to their British and French counterparts, leading to the light-hearted jab getting passed around the trenches. Judging by this, the pistol that Deryn takes is probably an M1911, the standard-issue pistol for American forces in WWI and beyond.**

**A massive thank-yo to my beta reader, eisceire, whose feedback helped shape up the rough edges of this chapter!**


	31. Terror at Two Thousand Feet

Chapter 31

"Terror at Two Thousand Feet"

**February 2nd, 1917**

**Aboard the _Nephilim_**

Deryn and Ashton had mere seconds to react when the rebel airmen launched their assault.

Ashton, still trying to get the squirming Disruptor under her control, dropped to a crouch and hesitantly fired off a bolt, striking Moira's airbeast and nearly throwing the girl out the cargo hold. Deryn steadied herself and drove the grappling hook into a soft spot of the _Nephilim_, rappelling down the side to get a better shot at the airbeasts blocking their escape. Above her, electrical bolts crackled from all directions, some firing at the _Nephilim_ and others lashing out at the rebels' airbeasts.

The cargo hold of the airbeast to their front was empty, even though a sharpshooter had been positioned there earlier. She lowered herself further. Below, she saw that the topside of the airbeast furthest down was swarming with rebel airmen, readying various weapons and climbing equipment to board hers.

Then the sharpshooter returned to his position, only this time with a Spandau MG08, which he promptly charged and aimed at the _Nephilim_.

She swung herself to the window where Alek was working the wheel, knocking on it with her boots. "Drop us down now!" she shrieked to him.

Deryn held on for dear life as the _Nephilim_ descended rapidly, bashing it against the airbeast below and forcing them out of the trap for now. Her rope swung back and forth against the beastie's side. She jammed her boots against a rough area of its outer membrane, grinding the swinging to a halt.

The _Nephilim_ picked up its pace as two of the three airbeasts recovered and raced alongside it. Every time the Nephilim would start outpacing its pursuers, it would be struck with enough Disruptor bolts to slow it down within their reach. Deryn gritted her teeth; the speed advantage her airbeast had was becoming a moot point with the number of shocks it was taking. The airbeast with Moira trailed behind the others then ascended further, gradually descending over Deryn's airbeast.

To her right boomed the distinct thumping of machine gun fire. Bright flashes of electric bolts and crack of gunfire rang out all around her. Deryn lowered herself underneath the _Nephilim_ as Alek pushed it to go even faster. Using its momentum, she swung herself back and forth, aiming herself at the airbeast with the Spandau.

Deryn began counting down as her swinging became lengthier and lengthier. "Three…two…one…"

In one fluid move, she swung onto the opposing airbeast, latching onto the left flank of the beastie's membrane with all her might. Finding a rough foothold every so often, she hoisted herself up higher and higher, the surface leveling out to the bumpy crevasses of its topside...

Suddenly, two rebel airmen dropped down beside her. The one on her right, a boy with burn scars around his neck, widened his eyes in terror. "He's climbing on board!" he shrieked. "Help me get him off!"

Deryn threw herself next to him and struck him as hard as she could in the chest. His grip loosened for the briefest of moments, but that was all it took for him to slip off and fall towards the earth.

The other rebel airman, a younger girl, yelled for her falling ally and climbed after his killer. Deryn rolled onto the top of the airbeast and signaled to Ashton, who was viciously blasting a rebel airman on the Nephilim's topside. Ashton waved to her and dove for the grappling hook, pulling it off as she felled another airman climbing up towards her. Deryn quickly reeled it in just as the girl made it to the top, a rigging knife pointed at her.

Pure instinct drove Deryn to dodge the girl's wide slash with the knife. Sidestepping her, she bashed the girl with the blunt end of the grappling hook and rammed her with her elbow before she could recover.

For a second, she saw a younger Deryn Sharp plummeting to the ground, screaming helplessly for her crewmates to come save her.

Deryn suppressed a shudder and ran along the top towards the rebel cargo hold. On the _Nephilim_, Ashton was being overwhelmed by the onslaught. Shockingly enough, Ashton had gotten the hang of the Disruptor, downing any rebels unlucky enough to not be hidden while latching onto the airbeast. However, the sheer amount of bolts and bullets coming her way forced her to keep moving and stay down. Deryn caught glimpses of Boesch crouched behind a crate in the cargo hold, plugging rounds into the backs of any airbeasts within his view. She could barely make out Jung beside him, reloading the other rifle for whenever his ran empty.

Unfortunately, more than a few rebels had gotten onto the sides of the _Nephilim_, in spots far too dangerous for any of her crew of them to attack. It would be up to Deryn herself to dislodge them before they downed it.

Sinking the grappling hook into the thick outer membrane of the rebel airbeast, she began roping herself down over the cargo hold, where the gunner continued to fire away at the _Nephilim, _his stream of fire getting closer and closer in spite of Alek's quick maneuvering. If the crew gave him a better angle to fire from, her airbeast would be done for.

Deryn launched herself into the hold, kicking the distracted gunner in the face. Her feet scuffed against the surface as she lowered herself further and further down. Just when the gunner got up, she ripped the ammo box from his Spandau and threw it overboard, tossing herself out with it at the same time.

She threw herself closer to the _Nephilim_ to make the next swing easier and to avoid having the rope in sight of the gunner. When she had lowered herself as far as the rope would allow, she looked up. Ten feet above her was the airbeast's stomach, where all the hydrogen used to make it fly was stored. If she could ignite that, it would come crashing down in a burning husk.

Did she have anything powerful enough to pierce it, though? All she had was the flare gun and the American pistol.

Her free hand pulled out the handgun. One after another, she sunk the magazine of forty-five caliber rounds into the airbeast's stomach.

Nothing happened afterwards. Was the pistol too small to pierce it?

At once, she noticed the airbeast gradually descending. With the hydrogen starting to leak, she holstered the pistol and loaded her flare gun. She launched a flare into the small hole left in the airbeast's stomach.

All it took was the one flare to start a fire that rapidly spread across the airbeast. She heard cries coming from within the beastie's inner membrane.

She had to get moving before this fire brought down the airbeast with her on it. Using the same trick as before, she launched herself onto the _Nephilim_, cutting off the rope connecting her to the grappling hook as it fell with the airbeast.

Deryn watched with horror as the _Leviathan_ began its fiery descent to the earth, taking Newkirk, Captain Hobbes, and all of her old friends with it…

She shut her eyes as tight as she could. "No, no, no!" cried Deryn. When she opened them, she only saw the scorched body of the first rebel airbeast crashing down.

Clinging to her side of the _Nephilim _was an older rebel airman, mouth agape and yelling for the people aboard the downed airbeast. Deryn had scarcely realized what she was doing by the time she had blasted him in the face with a flare, sending him tumbling to the earth with the airbeast's crew.

Like a spider, she climbed across the side until she got to the dark object he had attached to the _Nephilim_. It was brick-like, with pieces of tape securing a wither-bug to the front of it. Blisters, they were going to _melt away_ the membrane of her airbeast! Deryn removed the acid bomb from the side, pocketing it in case she needed it later.

With one of their allies gone, the two airbeasts pulled up, rising just far enough above the _Nephilim_ to gain a height advantage. They circled their prey menacingly, slowing it with bolts as their airmen planted acid bombs along its side.

Ashton peered over the side and offered her gloved hand. Deryn thanked her and pulled herself up top. Bolts of electricity crackled alongside them as they ran to a sloped edge of her airbeast. Ashton cursed at the rebels as she shot yet another one that had made the mistake of going into her line of sight.

"God, this thing is powerful!" Ashton cried. "I wish our side had some of these bugs! I mean, _this_ is a real weapon Do you Darwinists use tech like this all the time?"

Deryn looked at the circling airbeasts. Soon enough, they were going to be exposed in this spot. They had to move somewhere else fast.

"Not all of us, but some people have started building beasties like them! Look, Ashton, we need to move! We're going to be exposed soon!"

"How about the cargo hold? We can plan this out with Jung and Boesch down there!"

"It's worth a shot! Come on!"

The two defenders made a mad dash for the other end of the _Nephilim_, avoiding everything the rebels threw at them all the while. Sparks crackled beside them and bullets cracked out from their own ship. Alek guided the _Nephilim_ up, trying to slip away, but the airbeasts merely rose higher and kept halting their escape.

When they reached the end, Deryn slipped down and gripped the top of the cargo hold, throwing her legs forward and landing roughly in front of Boesch. The boy yelped, nearly hitting her as she got up. Ashton followed suit and dropped down a few moments later.

"Is this typical for you Darwinists?" Ashton shouted over the noise. "Trying to fight each other for supremacy and wiping out the weaker links?"

Deryn blinked. Was she trying to start an argument in the middle of a gunfight, or was she really curious about that?

"No," Deryn said back, "this is what happens when you push people so far that they start lashing out at everyone! Everyone thinks they're doing the right thing!"

For what it was worth, Ashton nodded and got down next to Boesch. Deryn kneeled beside Jung, who was as flustered as could be as he handed Boesch another loaded rifle.

She had an idea of what they could do with the acid bomb. If she could get close enough, she could use to blast a hole into one of the two rebel airbeasts. The only problem was that she didn't even know how to make it work, and she couldn't climb back topside now with those two airbeasts still following hers.

"Got any ideas, Sharp?" Boesch asked her. "They have us boxed in!"

Deryn looked all around for something, anything, that could give them an edge. She sprawled on the floor, digging through crates and boxes. But she couldn't find anything; the rebels had truly made this beastie to be as bare-bones as possible.

One of the airbeasts lowered itself so its cargo hold was facing theirs directly. Moira stood in the other hold, shaking and aiming a Disruptor directly at them. Boesch and Ashton dropped behind cover while Deryn, still distracted, remained in the open.

Behind her, one of the rebels shrieked, "What are you waiting for? Fry Agent Sharp so we can get out of here!"

Trembling, Moira kept her aim on Deryn's crew, but fired off no volleys of lightning. Exasperated, she tore off her Disruptor fab and cried, "I can't! He's my friend; he saved my life before! What right to I have to take his?"

Incredulously, the man stared at her, furious at her sudden act of defiance. "Fine! You can _join_ them!"

He roughly gripped Moira and shoved her out the cargo hold, sending her plummeting for the earth.

Pure adrenaline fueled Deryn as she dashed for the edge of the _Nephilim_. Moira would never reach them. She would fall short and continue her descent, joining the countless others who had the bad luck to be falling thousands of feet.

"Follow my lead!" Deryn cried to the others.

She braced herself to do the daftest thing her brain had ever thought up. Swallowing down her fear, she dove off the edge just as Moira reached their height, gripping the Irish girl's arms for security.

A hundredth of a second passed, though it felt like an eternity to Deryn. The distant ground stared back at her, ready to swallow her up as it did the other fallen airmen.

Deryn yelped as a set of hands took her legs. Looking up, she saw Ashton struggling to keep the two of them up, with Boesch's hands tightly gripping her waist to support her.

Moira was still dazed and utterly shocked at what had happened within the last minute or so. She didn't say a thing to Deryn, but the fearful, wild look in her eyes told Deryn everything she needed to know.

"Moira, listen carefully! I'm going to pull you up! The first chance you get, grab the ledge and get onto my airbeast, alright?"

Moira dimly nodded. Slowly, Deryn angled her stomach and began raising Moira further and further up, her hands moving lower to continue getting Moira closer to the ledge.

A bolt of electricity narrowly missed her, dissipating along the _Nephilim's_ surface below her. She realized that the rebel boy still had Moira's Disruptor in his possession. She moved much quicker, the burning sensation in her arms and stomach growing as her muscles dealt with a sort of strain they weren't used to.

Moira's right hand found the ledge, and her left soon after. She pulled herself aboard just as Ashton and Boesch began lifting her back in. More bolts struck beside her as her heart raced. The rebel wasn't a crack shot, but he was going to hit her sooner or later...

With a loud grunt, Ashton and Boesch heaved Deryn onto the cargo hold. Jung, who sat by the edge, began hobbling to cover. Deryn rolled back, trying to get as far away from the edge as possible.

Ashton ran for the back. Boesch reacted slower than she did, making a run for the safety of the crates just as a Disruptor bolt struck his leg, toppling him to the floor with a shriek.

Boesch's hand reached for Jung's, as he was the closest to the injured medic.

"I can't move, Jung!" Boesch moaned. "Pull me back!"

Either Jung didn't hear him or he didn't care, because he had run all the way back by the time another bolt struck Boesch's back, silencing him for good this time.

Deryn's heart sank. "No...barking spiders, no..."

Ashton's stare was glassy and unreadable. She mouthed Boesch's name, almost as if she wasn't sure if the boy had passed away.

The glassiness was quickly overtaken by a look of cold fury. Abruptly, she pulled the acid bomb out of Deryn's reach and took aim at the rebel airbeast.

"Ashton, wait! I don't even know how that bomb works?"

She looked back at Deryn, her features contorted in cold anger and fury. "Who cares how it works!" she snapped.

Ashton ran to the edge of the cargo hold and hurled the acid bomb at the rebel airbeast. Without a bit of hesitation, she readied her Disruptor and shot the bomb mid-air.

Acid violently sprayed across the back of the rebel airbeast. The airman who killed Boesch screamed as the acid splashed on him, consuming him just as quickly as it did to the airbeast's membrane. Within seconds, it ate away at the muscle and bone of the beastie, tearing it apart as more and more of its internals were exposed. In a few short seconds, it took a nose dive towards the ground.

Deryn stood still, dumbfounded at what had just happened. Ashton whirled around at her and barked, "What are you gawking at? Take down that last airbeast before it kills any more of us!"

Even though she was the captain of the _Nephilim_, Deryn didn't question Ashton's orders. She ran back to the topside ladder and climbed back up, rushing to the right flank. Farther back, the last airbeast drifted away, unable to keep pace with its faster counterpart. The airbeast's crew wasn't shooting at her or the _Nephilim_ anymore, but below her, the last few rebel airmen were hurrying along with the acid bombs. One looked back at their airbeast and, realizing they might be left behind, cried out to it and waved frantically.

Deryn loaded her last shot into the flare gun, and, aiming at just the right angle, hit an older rebel boy in the shoulder. As he fell, he collided with the two airmen beneath him, taking them all to a one-way journey into the Austrian countryside.

The last airbeast broke off from its pursuit and flew away. Deryn considered going after it. It would be fitting to finish off the last of the airbeasts that had ambushed them…but, no, enough was enough. She already felt tainted from all the fighting and killing.

When she had finished removing the acid bombs and pocketing them for later use, she climbed as close as she could to the front window, where a sweat-drenched Alek lay exhausted at the controls.

"We're clear, Alek. I'll be coming down in a minute."

She climbed back top. Her stomach lurched, not just as the destruction she had caused, but at what was waiting for her. Quietly, she dropped back down onto the cargo hold.

Boesch's body was perfectly still in spite of the _Nephilim's_ unsteady flying. Ashton stood over her fallen comrade muttering a prayer, one hand gently cradling the boy's face while another moved his hand onto his heart. As soon as she stopped speaking, she gently kissed Boesch's lips. She closed his eyes and left him, walking towards Jung.

Ashton struck Jung square in the jaw, knocking him against the crates that had saved his life prior. Deryn moved to intervene, but Moira stepped in the way, silently shaking her head.

"You..._murderer!_" Ashton accused. "You could have saved him! But, no, you had to be a coward, and Boesch had to pay for that with his life!"

Jung wiped the blood away from his lips. He stood up, attempting to seem defiant, but cowered when Ashton approached him again.

"How is this my fault? I didn't kill Boesch! I didn't want to risk my life just so we _both_ could die! What good would that do?"

"You were the closest to him! You could have reached him! We're _Clankers_, for God's sake! We don't leave each other behind!"

Jung, looking more pathetic than usual with his bruised lips, said, "Like I told Volger, honor means nothing when death is on the line! I had no reason to risk my life when I would have just died with him! I still have people back home I need to look after!"

Ashton raised her fist, ready to strike Jung again. He flinched and closed his eyes. Ashton glared at the lieutenant, ready to beat the tar out of him...but lowered her fist instead.

"No," she remorsefully said. "It wouldn't do any good. It wouldn't bring Boesch back, and I don't think he would want to see that anyway."

Ashton left Jung where he was and headed deeper into the _Nephilim's_ interior. Deryn started to follow her, but stopped when she saw Moira still standing where they had been.

"They betrayed me again," Moira said to Deryn. "I trusted them, and twice now they've tried to kill me. What did I do to deserve that?"

"You did nothing wrong! You've just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. What matters now is that you're safe and away from those ninnies."

Moira nodded. "I was traveling with that lot because needed to warn the Darwinists at Vienna. The Clankers...they're desperate. They know they can't hold out, but they're going to try to take as many of us out as they can before they retreat. I thought I needed to stop just the Clankers, but it's looking like the Darwinists need the same sort of treatment."

Vienna was sounding more and more like a soon-to-be bloodbath. Just what were the Clankers planning? And how did Gottschalk fit into all of it?

She could ask about that later. For now, they needed to lick their wounds and and figure out their next move.

"Come with us, Moira," Deryn said to her. "You might not have a place with the Austrian Darwinists anymore, but I'd be happy to have you on my crew."

Deryn offered her hand to her. Moira hesitated at the offer, then took it and followed her into safety of the _Nephilim_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ...And there we go! The two-chapter split has been resolved without any apparent issues.**

**Again, a massive "thank-you" to my beta reader, eisceire, whose feedback helped improve the character interaction and the fluidity of the battle in the past two chapters! **


	32. Keeping Busy

**Chapter 32**

"**Keeping Busy"**

**February 3****rd****, 1917**

**Aboard the Nephilim**

At the helm of her airbeast, Deryn stood motionless, gazing out at the plume of smoke over Vienna. Every second it seemed to grow denser. She hoped it was only because they were getting closer to the city.

"What should I have done differently?" she asked herself for the third time that morning.

True, the _Nephilim_ had escaped the battle with minimal damage, and true, all but one of her crew survived…but that still left one lad dead. His death was on her watch, her orders had dragged them into the fight. If she had ducked out of the way like Moira warned her, maybe the air battle would never have happened.

Then again, they might have taken her crew prisoner if she hadn't shown up. If they saw Alek among the rest, they would have reacted the same way.

The crew had said little after fighting off the rebel airbeasts. Volger and Jung had gone their separate ways, with the wildcount scheming up new plans in the cargo hold, while Jung was in their quarters feeling sorry for himself. Ashton had taken on the task of stowing Boesch's body away until he could get a proper funeral back home. As for Alek, she didn't have a clue where he had disappeared to.

"Mind if I come in?" Alek asked.

Deryn kept her eyes on the sky. No airbeasts were going to sneak up on her again. "Go right ahead."

Behind her, the door creaked open, then scraped back shut. Alek moved beside her, melancholically smiling as he admired the sight.

"We never got too many assignments where we could fly, did we? I thought I missed the sky, but it must have been excruciating for you."

"Aye, being stuck on the ground never compared to being with the clouds. Up here now, it feel like I'm in a home away from home. Everything just feels barking _wrong_, though."

"Something wrong, _liebe_?" Alek faced her, eyes full of concern.

Deryn sighed. "You know what's wrong, Alek. Under my watch, Boesch died. I failed a member of my crew when he needed it the most."

"Don't blame yourself for that! You were already putting your life on the line to save that Moira girl's. Jung was the only one there close enough to get Boesch out of harm's way." Alek paused, studying her carefully. "Something bigger is bothering you, isn't it?"

Deryn sat against the wall, gently rubbing her eyes to ease the stress. When Alek took a seat behind her, she finally vented her frustrations.

"Remember what Volger said about me on the _Leviathan_? How I couldn't bear to fight against a Darwinist, but was more than happy to lash out at Clankers?"

"I remember, but that can't still be bothering you, can it?"

"He was right," she said bitterly. "This whole blasted thing – the lies, the battles with the Darwinists, the people I've hurt and killed – it's nothing like stopping the Clankers. These people are just like me and all the Darwinists I met in the Air Service! Blisters, there was a girl no older than I was when I enlisted that I sent crashing down from thousands of feet up! How can I convince myself that I'm doing the right thing when all I see are my old friends getting hurt?"

She felt an arm snake around her waist just as Alek pulled her closer to him. She did the same, pressing the two together until Alek winced from the pressure.

"I know what you're thinking, Alek, and you should say it. I'm a hypocrite. I'm weak for not caring as much about who I fight as you do. I'm just…" Deryn groaned in anger. "This isn't why I joined the Zoological Society! I wanted to protect Darwinists, and all I've been doing lately is snuff them out!"

Alek said nothing back to her. "Well?" Deryn demanded. "Say something! Call me out any way you want, I don't care how, but don't leave me with nothing!"

Again, her demands were met with silence. Alek got up and left the wheel room, returning with the mattress from the captain's quarters held in front of him.

"Deryn, promise me you'll do me a favor, no matter how strange it sounds?"

"What does that have to do with anything I said?"

"Just promise me, Deryn! I'm trying to help you!"

Deryn got onto her feet. "Aye, spill it."

Alek gripped the mattress tighter. "I want you to hit me as hard as you can."

"…Is this a barking _joke_, Alek? Do you have any idea how I feel-"

Alek knocked her onto the ground with the mattress. Anger surged through Deryn as she got back up. "Knock it off, Alek! This isn't the time to-"

He tried the same move as before, only for Deryn to narrowly dodge it. What was he _doing_? She was holding back, but if that ninny tried it one more time…

…Which he did, by sweeping her legs out from under her. She crashed onto the hard ground, and suddenly she wasn't looking at the good-natured ex-prince she had fallen for, but the paranoid smuggler who had pulled a gun on her for asking a few questions.

Instinct took over as she swung at him. Her fist connected with the rough but soft surface of the mattress. Alek grunted, caught off-guard by the force of her punch, and reeled as she delivered blow after blow to the defenseless bed.

All her rage, her turmoil, her anxiety went into her strikes, each one knocking Alek back closer and closer to the wall. She drove him until he was boxed into a corner. With a fury she hadn't unleashed since her charge at Moira, she delivered a rapid-fire series of punches that kept pushing Alek into the wall, until her knuckles started turning red, until she was seething with the released anger.

Then Alek dropped the mattress. Halfway through her next punch, Deryn hesitated, holding her fist back just as it was preparing to blacken one of his eyes.

"Tsk tsk, Deryn, not fond of fighting Darwinists and hesitating when fighting a Clanker?" He grinned at her – not mockingly, but with that concerned yet optimistic look he held in those first few weeks after they had met. "I think your problem is that you just don't like hurting people."

"You mean…you don't think…"

"You're anything but a hypocrite, Deryn. You were never supposed to fight against Darwinists, and I was never supposed to fight Clankers. Just because I've done it doesn't mean I'm _used_ to it. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with it."

"What does that make me, then?"

Alek drew her closer to him. Delicately, he planted a kiss on her cheek. "It means you're human," he whispered, his lips still close to hers. "You're perfect the way you are. Not as some slayer of Clankers and Darwinists, but as a girl who always has her mind on the clouds."

There was an unbearable energy building up in her gut. Everything Alek had said had shook her to her core, leaving her so relieved yet so vulnerable at the same time. She needed him, just as he needed her. Without each other, they were almost incomplete.

When the tension became too much to bear, she kissed him back. She pressed her lips hard against him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to eliminate any gaps between the two. Again and again their lips met, Deryn greedily pressing Alek against the wall, only this time she wasn't being driven by anger. Far from it; she hadn't felt this type of desire since their first kiss atop the _Leviathan_.

"Alek," she breathed between kisses, "will-you-understand-if-I-never-want-to-do-this-again?"

He held her back with all his might, delaying another barrage of kisses. "Honestly, I won't blame you. I fully intend to ask Dr. Barlow if we could not get another 'help stop these Darwinists' assignment."

Deryn nearly collapsed on the floor, taking Alek with her as they fell to their knees. Soon after, they were back to snogging, with Deryn frequently leading both of them while Alek desperately tried to assert his own authority.

Some unknowable amount of time later, the two were collapsed side by side with each other on the floor, breathing hard and caught up in each other's embrace.

"God's wounds, you are relentless. Ever heard of breathing, _liebe_? It stops you from suffocating when you're kissing your boyfriend repeatedly."

Deryn giggled. She slapped Alek light across his back. "Thanks for that, you Clanker clart-sniffer. I really needed it."

Alek's cheeks were still flushed. "Oh, believe me, the pleasure was all mine."

They were locked hand-in-hand and just about to press against one another again when someone stepped through the door.

"Dylan, Alek, you're needed in the crew's quarters!" Moira said. "That count fella said we should be getting close to Vienna, so he said we should all get together to plan this out!"

The two tried to disentangle themselves, but she had already gotten a good look in.

"…Do I want to know what you two were doing?" asked Moira.

Clart, Volger was right. She and Alek needed to be more careful about that sort of thing.

Alek stammered, forcing out some half-baked excuse about a fight that had ended with the two of them helping each other up. Deryn, meanwhile, raised a hand at Alek to get him to stop.

"Moira, you've been through a lot, partly because of some of the things I've done. Because of that – and, you know, what you just saw – I think you deserve some honesty." She allowed her voice to go an octave higher. "My name isn't Dylan, it's Deryn. I dressed as a boy to fight in the war, and I've kept at it to keep working with my friends."

Moira stared at her blankly. "Your name is _Deryn_? What kind of a name is that?"

"It's not a common one, at least among boys. Why do you think I called myself 'Dylan?'"

Moira's eyes widened. Slowly, she grasped what Deryn had been hinting to her all along. "_You mean, you're a lass_?"

* * *

><p>When they all had gathered in the crew's quarters, Volger unrolled a map atop a big box of chimaera rations. Everyone had gathered up crates and other things around the airbeast that they could use as chairs. All of them seemed to have calmed down from the air battle...except for Moira, who kept throwing perturbed glances at her.<p>

As Deryn had expected, Moira had become wary of her since her true identity had been revealed. The poor lass had a lot on her mind, no doubt about it. In a few measly hours, she not only was betrayed by the rebels, but she also found out that the boy she had been pining for was really a girl. Everything she knew had been torn down in the time it took an airbeast to fly across Austria. In the place of her beliefs were empty spaces, ready to be filled by whatever good or bad ideas she held the fastest to.

She hoped that Moira would come to trust her again. If not, she could live with her not spilling her secret among the others. Ashton might not care about who she truly was, but Jung's reaction would be a wild card.

"Ladies and gentleman," said Volger, "this is Vienna. From what we can gather, the Austrian Darwinist Alliance is laying siege to the city, and may already have footholds in it. As we speak, the situation there grows direr. The Clankers and Darwinists are becoming further polarized by the continuing conflict. Not only is Gottschalk unaccounted for, but our new arrival has informed me of a new development on the Clankers' side."

Moira smoothed out the map. "Before I was shipped out to find you all, I was supposed to giving a warning to the Darwinists on the front lines." She pointed to a large, empty space on the map. "This is where some daft plonker of a colonel called Waechter has lined up a bunch of artillery pieces. He's gathered a lot of gas munitions, from mustard to sulfur. You can guess what he's planning on doing with them."

Ashton spoke up. "Dropping poison gas on the rebels?"

"That's insane!" Alek cried. "There will still be unevacuated people among the Darwinists! If they use poison, they risk killing _everyone_, not just the rebels!"

"Exactly, Your Serene Highness. That is why we need to disable his artillery guns or destroy his gas canisters. If allowed to use them, he will not only kill hundreds of innocents, but rally the entire Darwinist population against the Loyalists."

"I'm lost. Volger, wasn't this ninny one of your friends? Can't you just tell him to knock it off?"

"When I fled to the Alps with Aleksandar in tow, I lost more than a few friends. Waechter was among my harshest critics, to the point where he orchestrated attacks on airbeasts believing to be carrying me. I think his failures to stop both me and Gottschalk are finally catching up with him. He will not listen to anyone, and he has become so desperate to prove his worth that he has become willing to sacrifice the lives of his own people."

"So, you and Alek managed to infuriate more than just me," Jung commented. "Getting back on topic, how do we stop this maniac before he shoots both parties in the feet?"

"We don't have the manpower to launch a full-scale assault," Ashton noted. "And, from what Moira had drawn up, he has some old anti-air turrets scattered around his encampment to drive airbeasts away. Not to mention how well-guarded the edges of this place are…Christ, he built himself a damn fortress out of nothing!"

"Right, he's all bunkered down. Oi, Deryn, what sort of weapons do you have onboard?"

Jung and Ashton glanced at Moira. "O'Donovan, his name is _Dylan_," said Jung. "If you're going to work with us, at least get to know our names."

Deryn hoped they only thought she had misspoken.

"We don't have much," Deryn quickly cut in, hoping to keep them in the dark. "Just two rifles, a Disruptor beastie, a pistol…oh, and the half-dozen acid bombs I pried off of the _Nephilim_ during the attack. It's not much against a barking army."

Alek's hand jutted up. "I have an idea. A risky one, yes, but I am positive it can be pulled off."

"Well, don't keep us waiting!" Jung said. "Drop the suspense and tell us what it is!"

Alek poked a denser part of the city further north. "We can assume that the fighting hasn't spread everywhere yet, so the Clankers will be focusing on the areas where Darwinists have the greatest presence. They'll be ready to shoot down our airbeast if we get within range of Waechter's encampment, but…"

His finger traced closer to their target. "…We don't have to fly over it. What we should do is fly around the city into a less-guarded section, have Dylan and me dropped off so we can sneak into his base. Once we've made it safe for air travel by knocking out their anti-air weapons, Ashton and Moira can detonate the acid bombs on the artillery cannons and munition depots. With all the chaos going on, we can sneak out and get picked up by you somewhere else. We'll deal with Gottschalk down the line. I'm sure she'll pop up once the Clankers take enough damage."

One by one, the crew voiced their approval of Alek's plan, even if it was cautiously.

Volger drew up the outline of their plan onto the map. "Innumerable lives may be lost unless we act decisively." He rolled it up and placed it under his arm. "The next few hours will be critical for saving the lives of many people. If you have any doubts, voice them immediately. Otherwise, rest up. We need to be in our best condition for what will come next."

* * *

><p><strong>Vienna, Austria<strong>

Gottschalk's ear worm fabrication churned out broadcast after broadcast of communication from the Austrian Darwinists, but all she wanted was to make the noise stop.

"-We're bunkering down near the airfield, who else is within running distance of it? We need to organize an attack soon, they can't be allowed to recover-"

"-God, these people! I – get back, ma'am! This is Austrian Darwinist Alliance territory now! Clankers like you need to stay in their homes! Where is the-"

"-Any signs of Gottschalk yet? My men and I have been tracking down leads without any-"

"-Forget about her! My squad is providing medical services to any injured civilians that come our way. We're running out of supplies, can anyone-"

"-Christ, Agatha, you're giving aid to the _Clankers_? What are you thinking?"

"-We've got Tyrant Walkers incoming on my block! Anyone with a vitriolicant they aren't in desperate need of had better-"

Gottschalk shook her head, desperate to stop the commotion surging through her earlobes. Every second she was getting barraged by the chatter of her subordinates in Vienna, none of whom had figured out where she had been taken. Strange, seeing as how she was in one of the few wide-open spaces of the city, she thought that her men would inevitably stumble across her. She was, after all, on her knees beside an artillery cannon, staring out at the vast wreckage that remained of Southern Vienna.

Of all the rotten luck…

It wasn't enough to have her own followers try to usurp her, no, that wouldn't be enough. Some Stormwalker patrol had to have the luck to shoot down her airbeast with a single cannon shot. As if that wasn't bad enough, she was dragged from the wreckage and greeted by a smirking Clanker colonel, who then shot her crew in front of her and told her she would watch her army get bombarded.

What infuriated her most was that they hadn't even touched her. She could live with it if they had struck her and beaten her; in fact, it would have been a relief to mock their efforts to humiliate her. But the Clankers guarding her were weak cowards, ready to murder thousands at a distance but unable to confront a single woman face to face. Worst of all, they had the low cunning of scavenger animals. So long as the Darwinists continued to fight, she would be treated decently to prevent her from becoming a martyr for the cause.

All she could do was squirm around with her hands bound behind her back as they readied their artillery pieces, eager to drop poison-spewing canisters on her followers and their own people. Her loyal soldiers were doing so well, too…if she wasn't guarded constantly, she could warn them about the impending poison bombardment.

Regret continued to shake her thoughts. If only her flight had gone swimmingly…she could be in London right now, driving a knife through that traitorous Barlow's stomach. She had dreamed of that moment for so long, and it had been cruelly ripped away from her. To end Barlow's miserable existence, and to convince the British to launch an invasion of Austria…at one point it was possible, but now it was a pipe dream.

Not that she needed any outside help. England had been a luxury, an indulgence - a weakness. No more of that. She was at the cusp of liberating her home from the Clankers. All she needed was the right "push," and Vienna would be hers. Then, once that Chancellor Renner coward got the axe, she would destroy the remnants of the Clanker government up north.

The Clanker engineers around her jumped to attention. From behind her, Colonel Waechter saluted the men and ordered them to get back to work. His dress uniform was crisp and clean, and he bore an insufferable smirk at the sight of her captivity.

"Ah, my dear Anastasia!" Waechter mockingly said. "Or, is it 'Lady Gottschalk?' Honestly, I could never keep up with those ridiculous titles your zealots created."

Gottschalk clenched her fists. If she wasn't surrounded by a dozen armed men, she would be strangling the fool with the chains that bound her.

He clapped her on the shoulder. "Today is a momentous day. I will finally get the recognition I deserve! All of the mistakes that were made – the defense of Lienz, the loss of Salzburg – will be undone. Your precious rebellion will fall today!"

Gottschalk glared back at him. "This won't work, you stupid Clanker. Don't you get it? You're irrelevant! You've been irrelevant for the past year now! Even if by some miracle you drive out my Darwinists, you won't get any credit for it! I doubt that many people on your side can even remember you!"

Her earworm sprang back into focus. Suddenly, the chatter buzzed with questions about her, whether anyone else had heard her voice, if she was still alive. A few men directly asked where she was being held.

Her fingers twitched with anticipation. She might be able to escape sooner than expected.

"I was unfairly sidelined, don't think any other way about it," Waechter huffed. "When I destroy your invasion force, then idiots like Rothschild will remember who I am and what I've done for my country!"

What mattered was that she kept talking. "Really, now? Have you ever read a newspaper lately? All the articles seem to be about your old friend Aleksandar. Speaking of the boy, are you all still trying to convince him you didn't sell out his parents to the Germans?"

"That brat never deserved any fame! It doesn't matter what the papers say now, because within the week my name will be plastered all over them!"

Gottschalk rolled her eyes. "And you genuinely believe the press will forgive you after you gas hundreds of your citizens to kill dozens of mine? What, are you going to tell them that this whole setup, with the artillery cannons lined up in the town square, somehow fired inaccurately at close range?"

The chatter had gotten outright fervent. She feared that Waechter might overhear what the worm was repeating to her, but he showed no awareness of the fabrication lodged in her ear. But the fight hadn't ended yet, and she still had her part to play. Right now, she needed to keep Waechter off-balance and paranoid, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

"They will believe whatever I tell them. Why would they question the savior of Vienna?"

Seizing an opportunity to wear out her captor's patience, she spat on the polished medals adorning his dress uniform. A twitch of anger shot along his face as he wiped it off. "I'm only being lenient until the cameras stop rolling. When this is done, I'm going to be the first to land a blow on that pretty face of yours. If you thought what you did to Bierman was bad, my men and I will repay it to you ten times over."

Her heart warmed at the return of Clanker threats. It was a small victory, but it kept her spirits up.

Her spirits lifted even further when a booming voice came in through the worm fab.

"Listen up! I've got a bead on Lady Gottschalk's location. The remnants of the Black Hand and I are headed that way to liberate her. Anyone within a five-block radius of its north side, load up and get ready to attack the encampment. They've got barbed wire, turret nests, and walker patrols around the perimeter, so be ready for a hard fight."

A small giggle escaped her lips. Just as she had hoped, her men were organizing a raid to free her. They had to be close by, judging by the increasing strength of their radio transmissions.

Maybe Adrian was helping out with the attack as well. As clingy as he was, she was starting to miss him. His unshakeable faith in her and dogged friendliness helped her through some tough times.

"Laugh all you want, Darwinist scum. These are your rebellion's final hours. You had best enjoy them, because the remainder of your life will be a living hell."

Gottschalk got on her feet to the cocking of a dozen rifles. Waechter waved them down as she looked him in the eyes. "You've got our roles reversed, you Clanker filth," she coldly said. "When my men take Vienna, I won't act with the sort of weakness you demonstrated to me. I will have you killed with the same indifference your people showed countless Darwinists over the years. When I'm done with you, I'll nail your lackey Alek to a Stormwalker, and I'll drive out anyone else who defies me."

"So, when I say that a storm is coming, I mean it. Today, the era of Clankers finally comes to a close."

She flashed her best lopsided smile at him, her scars twisting in such an unsettling way that Waechter backed up.

By the end of the day, she would be free. Once Austria was out of Clanker hands, only one person would stand in her way…and she had plans on how to deal with her.


	33. Death Wish

Chapter 33

"Death Wish"

**February 3****rd****, 1917**

**Vienna, Austria**

Within Gottschalk's ear echoed a breathy voice carried on by her worm fabrication, commenting that they "won't be too much longer now..."

Her hands shook with anticipation. Her soldiers should be arriving any second to liberate her from the Clankers, but it had been half an hour since she had heard any concrete progress. All she heard now was bickering between the Darwinists still loyal to her and the dissidents she had failed to stomp out in the coup.

Meanwhile, Waechter saw fit to taunt her, rubbing in her misfortune whenever the opportunity arose. On the surface, she casually deflected his jabs, but below she boiled with rage. She wanted to hurt every last Clanker on this base – no, she wanted to _kill_ them. There would be no mercy from her end. As soon as she got free, she would personally lead her Darwinists in executing every last one of the defenders in the colonel's encampment.

The sun had risen to high noon, coating the once-opulent city in an illuminating glow, brightening up the charred husks that were once graceful structures. It was as if the sun was trying to mask the destruction both sides had caused.

She could hear gunfire all around Vienna, but it never sounded any closer. What were her soldiers doing? Were they waiting for her go-ahead? Did they want her to give more information on her whereabouts?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two figures quietly slip around some shipping crates. They had arrived! Her forces had slipped into the base, now her vengeance could be wrought!

Then, she caught a glimpse of the blonde hair on one, and the reddish hair on the other. Her eyes met theirs. The latter of the two flinched at her gaze and scurried out of view.

Involuntarily, her breath hitched. _No_. Those two traitors, those spineless cowards, those filthy Clanker-loving _worms…_they had survived! Somehow, Alek and Deryn had survived the vitriolicant she had sent after them! And here they were now, crawling through the encampment to suit whatever twisted plans they had!

She pulled and struggled with her chains, muttering curses as she futilely tried to break free and lunge after them. One of Waechter's men took notice of her struggle and stepped between her and the colonel. He held tightly on the chains, pressing himself back against a cooling tank for walkers to halt her advance entirely.

"Someone is riled up." Waechter leaned over her, gazing at the now-empty space where Sharp and Hohenberg had been. "What's the matter? Are you finally coming to terms with your failure?"

"You stupid Clanker trash!" She kept struggling, even as another guard grabbed hold of her and held her back. "Don't you realize what's about to happen to you all?"

Waechter, surprised for but a second, chuckled. "Alright, I'll humor you. Tell me, _Lady_ Gottschalk, what is going to happen?"

She almost spoke up, then realized: if they were on the Clankers' side, then what were they doing sneaking around? They could just get what they wanted by asking. What if they were working against Waechter?

"The point of no return." Gottschalk smiled wickedly at them. "Once you fire those shells, you'll turn every Darwinist and Clanker in the world against you. Gassing Darwinist soldiers and rebels may be tolerable for your kind, but how do you think they will react to hearing their military massacred unarmed innocents without remorse?"

Waechter groaned. "I find it odd that you of all people are trying to claim the moral high ground." He waved to her guards to stand down and, once they had gone out of earshot, brought his head close to hers.

"Really, Gottschalk? You think you're the only one who is willing to do anything for her cause? Like you, I'm more than willing to sacrifice some of my constituents for the sake of saving many more. My men are following their roles without knowing their true purposes. I assure you, they will come to praise my actions today."

When he pulled away and resumed talking with his officers, it felt like someone had severed an electrical connection that linked the two. Both were aware of the monsters they had become, but rather than mope about what they had done, they embraced it. Gottschalk found herself both disgusted and fascinated by his nerve. Birds of a feather, they were.

It wouldn't save him, though.

If Alek and Deryn were going to sabotage Waechter, she would not help the Clankers find them. Best to let them create chaos so her own soldiers could attack properly. When she got them alone, though…she laughed at the prospect of doing so many horrible things to the two people that tried to play her for a fool.

She resigned herself to wait for rescue, wondering what those two were going to do to the Clankers in the meantime.

Before she could settle her thoughts, a series of explosions rocked the west wall of Waechter's encampment.

Screaming and commotion occurred all around her. Gunshots not even a kilometer from her echoed throughout the base. Clankers were barking orders at one another, loading weapons, mounting walkers. Acid splashes began hitting structures and defenses, literally melting away Waechter's "impenetrable" encampment.

Her greatest dream, their worst nightmare, had come true: her Darwinist rebels had infiltrated their base and launched an all-out assault against them.

The pull on her chains had vanished. Gottschalk looked around and found that, with chaos reigning, her guards had their priorities focus from watching her to fighting off her men. She tentatively took a step into the open. No one was keeping track of her.

Back towards the artillery guns, Waechter stood alone and unguarded, hurriedly attempting to load a poison gas shell into one of the artillery cannons.

Raw instinct took over. She had to get her hands uncuffed if she was to give Waechter what he deserved. Without a regard for her own well-being, Gottschalk bit and tore at her wrists till they bled. She pushed on the handcuffs until the slickness of the blood helped them slide off her.

Waechter didn't notice her until she was a breath away from him. She struck him hard – harder than he probably thought a woman could hit, hard enough to draw blood and smash one of his ears against the artillery cannon. He fell to the ground, and before he could recover, she was on him. Around his neck went her chains.

She pulled back as hard as she could. Waechter gasped for air as he was forced back up, desperately gripping at her hands while she moved back, pulling harder and harder against his jugular. All the while, she kept laughing, growing more and more ecstatic as she choked the life out of the Clanker who thought he could defeat her.

"Life's a strange thing, isn't it?" Gottschalk asked the dying Clanker, "Two years ago you tried to hunt me down for killing one of your friends. Now, I'm alive and well, and you're almost gone entirely."

Waechter's grip slackened as his pulse grew fainter. Gradually, he let go and fell to the ground. As tempting as it was to savor the moment, she had more rats to snuff out. She wasted no time in searching him, taking his pistol and tearing off some scraps of cloth from his coat. She tied them around her wrists to stem the tide of blood.

In the distance, she saw men and women bearing the black armband of the Austrian Darwinist Alliance. Confident that the Clankers had been routed, she approached them in the open.

The young woman leading the squad saluted her. "_Fraulein_ Gottschalk! It is an honor to meet you in person, even more so to be part of the rescue effort!"

"Belay the honor crap, girl, just give me the basics of this operation."

The girl looked stunned, possibly even hurt at Gottschalk's bluntness, but continued. "The Black Hand and many of your supporters are here to break you free and destroy this encampment. So far, we have eliminated several Clanker strongholds in Vienna, and have cornered a large battalion of Clanker soldiers and Loyalist civilians into hiding at Hofburg Palace. We wanted to hold off on attacking there until you were free. Our leaders thought you would want to see it."

"They were right. I want to be there to see the last bastion of Clankers in Austria put to the torch. Tell them to hold off attacking there until you have killed everything in a Clanker uniform in this base. Also, tell them that the traitors Sharp and Aleksandar are hiding somewhere in this base, and I want them both captured and brought to me personally."

The girl saluted her again. "I'll send it through our radio channels, my lady. Is there anything else you need from us?"

Gottschalk nodded. "When he gets a free moment, tell Adrian to meet directly with me. Executing an operation of this magnitude takes rigid planning. I ought to reward him for his dedication to our cause."

The squad drew back, becoming unusually timid and quiet.

The girl cleared her throat. "Uh…well…you see, _Fraulein_ Gottschalk, something came up while you were in enemy hands…"

* * *

><p><strong>Elsewhere in Waechter's encampment<strong>

The bursts of gunfire and cries of fabrications were, to Alek's dismay, not helping he or Deryn finish their task any faster.

The two of them were huddled on the ground, stomachs against the cold dirt. There were still four anti-air guns to disable before they could safely call in the _Nephilim_. Not that it was going to matter in the end, as the Darwinists were doing a fine job of tearing apart the Clanker defenses that the _Nephilim_ would have had to worry about.

Then again, they weren't on the best terms with the Darwinist rebels. He wondered what would happen if a Darwinist would catch them in the middle of sabotaging the Clanker guns. He hoped that the Clankers would not notice them and accuse them of being another pair of rebels destroying the encampment's weaponry, but luck had a habit of not going his way.

"Come on, beastie…" he whispered to the wither-bug inching along the joints of the gun. "We're on borrowed time as it is…"

Deryn had showed him a trick that the Darwinist rebels used to cause hard-to-notice but critical damage to Clanker machinery. They would take one of the acid beetles and poke a very small hole in its underbelly, then place it along whatever mechanisms needed melting. The small stream of acid that the fabrication would spill could do enough damage to take down any target, so long as the bug walked the correct path.

They had already melted off the pivots and feeding mechanisms of numerous anti-air guns, but Waechter had an honest-to-God _three dozen_ of them scattered around his encampment.

Deryn kept her wither-bug inching along by jabbing her rigging knife beside it whenever it would veer off course. Alek's had, for the most part, gone the way it needed to, pushed on by his encouragement alone.

Four dirtied and bruised Clanker soldiers, hands clenching their helmets against their heads, dashed into the gun nest where Alek and Deryn were hiding. Alek's heart began thumping even faster. He squeezed behind one of the guns, desperate to not be noticed.

"Quickly, on the anti-air guns!" the oldest among them cried. "We need to shoot down these airbeasts before they overrun us!"

Deryn shot Alek a look that said something like, "Oh clart, here we go again."

The Clankers hopped onto the guns – to his relief, none of the operational ones close to the two of them – only for them to collapse or jam up.

"What's wrong with these things?" one of them cried. "We just repaired them a few days ago!" They swore and kicked at the faulty emplacements, then ran to the next set.

Deryn waved Alek closer to her. "I think I know a way out of here. Look behind us."

Alek turned back as best as he could without giving their hiding spot away. In the distance, the tall, inviting buildings of Vienna that he had known since his childhood had been blasted and melted into miserable stubs. There was a hangar for gyrocopters behind them, but there was so much ground to cover that it would leave them dangerously exposed to fire.

However, where Deryn had directed him, there was a walker repairing bay that they could easily reach. It was a towering structure meant to hold the largest of walkers, resembling an ordinary aircraft hangar on the outside. He could faintly see the vast array of mechanical devices hanging from the ceiling, their sharp edges dulled by numerous repair jobs.

He nodded at her. "Good thinking. There will plenty of room to sneak through that bay."

Deryn made no reply. Alek turned back to her, only to find that the four Clankers from earlier had returned, and were holding the two of them at gunpoint.

"You two!" their leader cried. "You're agents of Gottschalk, aren't you? What did you do to our weapons?"

Alek blinked. Didn't they recognize either of them? He thought he was outright infamous in some Clanker circles. Maybe they were foreign mercenaries or new recruits who weren't up-to-speed with the conflict.

Whatever the reason was, he would probably never find out. Deryn leapt up and struck the nearest one, using the confusion to pull Alek out of the way as she took her wither-bug and hurled it at the last four remaining guns. There wasn't nearly enough acid left to create the usual, massive burst, but it was enough to hit all four of them along with a few drops on the Clankers.

As they yelled and panicked, trying desperately to throw the affected clothing off before it touched their skin, Alek and Deryn made a mad dash for the repair bay. A bullet whizzed by them and embedded itself into the outer wall of the bay. They kept themselves low, holding each other close as a few more stray shots went off. He heard one of the Clankers give a startled cry, one usually coming from a hit from a Disruptor. The surviving three ran off in some other direction, realizing that it wasn't worth sacrificing themselves to capture two saboteurs.

When they were under the shadow of the walker repair bay, they slid behind the cover of a disabled Stormwalker. With just enough time to catch their breath, they kept moving, crawling past the gears and bolts that were scattered along the floor. The entire place smelled of oil and grease. He saw heavy coats hung up against toolboxes and drawers. Some of the men here had probably been working repairs when the assault started. He grimaced, wondering how many Clankers and Darwinists had died in this encampment alone. He shuddered at the thought of the destruction elsewhere in Vienna.

A warm, calloused hand gripped his. "Everything alright, Alek?" Deryn asked.

He shook his head. "No, but I won't be feeling any better until those gas canisters can't be used anymore. Best if we keep looking for them."

Deryn crawled under the disassembled legs of a Tyrant walker, ducking her head low to avoid the tangled wires and bits of incomplete welding. Alek followed suit, attempting to act decently by not fixating on her legs. God's wounds, were they an attractive sight...

He forced himself to look away from them. From what he could gather from a quick look around, this path was the most straightforward way out of the repair bay. He saw a well-oiled wrench propped against one of the walker legs, and stuffed it in his trousers for safe keeping. Better to carry that than no weapon at all.

He emerged on the other side of the deconstructed walker with Deryn. Just as he picked himself up, he heard several low growls. Alek felt an uncontrollable shiver rock his body. He knew all too well what that noise signified.

A stray chimaera was slowly approaching them. All three of its heads were focused on him. One of its legs limped, supported by the other seven. Its fur was less patchy than the others he had seen before, but it still unsettled him greatly to look at it.

He wasn't in the mood to go toe-to-toe with one of these fabrications without a gun. He had taken on two before with just a knife, but he had been mauled and cut up badly because of it. Had Deryn not found him and patched him up, he'd likely be out-of-commission for a long time.

"It's alright, beastie," Deryn whispered. She was putting every ounce of her effort into mimicking Dr. Barlow's calming tone. "We're not here to hurt you." She knelt down so they were on even footing, her hands raised to show she was hiding nothing.

Hesitantly, Alek lowered his wrench. His fingers still gripped it tightly. "Be careful, _liebe_…" he whispered.

All the while, the chimaera continued to slowly advance on her. Its growling had gotten quieter. Deryn offered the fabrication his hand. "You can trust me," she said.

Its three heads considered her offer curiously. Playfully, one licked her hand. Against what Alek would consider to be common sense, Deryn began petting the fabrication as if it were an average dog. Its tail began wagging as Alek nervously joined in. The two of them continued showing it affection as if they weren't trapped in a warzone with two factions ready to tear each other apart.

As much as Alek was starting to enjoy this, their time with the beastie had to end. "Stand guard for us here, would you? We need to move on alone."

The chimaera pouted, but sat itself down obediently. Deryn muttered a quick "Goodbye, beastie!" before following Alek out of one of the repair bay's side doors.

For the most part, the noise had died down. But, what was left in its place was even worse. Clankers and Darwinists, wounded and dying, were scattered all along the ground. Walkers lay in shambles, and more than a few beasties were slumped on the ground with numerous bullet holes in them. The few surviving defenders were being moved at gunpoint by cold-faced Darwinist rebels. One or two vitriolicants roamed freely, prodding and crushing whatever Clanker weapons remained. The only untouched area was an artillery nest next to a walker cooling tank.

Deryn waved towards the looming barrels. "You see those cannons up ahead? I'm thinking Waechter stashed the gas munitions close by there."

"Seems likely," Alek replied, noticing that the rebels were growing more numerous by the second. However, they were scattered and disorganized. They were too busy hunting down survivors and destroying Clanker technology to notice them...at least, he hoped so.

There was a wide open entrance to the artillery nest, but it was probably being watched closely. There were people standing around there, but he couldn't make out any distinguishing features. Close to Deryn and him, a line of open shipping containers ran close to the artillery guns. "I think I found a safe path to the artillery guns. Follow me!"

Alek and Deryn ran past the first massive container, then dashed along the second. Deryn pressed him close against the third, holding her breath as a trio of rebels ran past them. She exhaled and let go of his shirt, the warmth of her hands still faint against his chest. He peered around the corner, saw no one, and gave Deryn a thumbs-up. They bolted between the gaps of the fourth, fifth, sixth...

…And, as soon as they entered the nest, found themselves face to face with none other than Anastasia Gottschalk herself, accompanied by a small band of rebels.

"Aleksandar! Agent Sharp!" Gottschalk wore a smile ear-to-ear, but there was nothing remotely pleasant or welcoming about it. The blood on her hands only added to the violent image she had been developing. "What a surprise to see you two throwing yourselves at my feet! I'm glad you two chose the noisiest way to sneak into our new outpost, it made it easier for my men to prepare for you. Alas, if you hoped to apologize, it's a little late for that."

One of Gottschalk's men rolled a cart carrying odd-looking artillery shells by her.

"Were you looking to pilfer these from under Waechter's nose?" She plucked one of the dozens from the pile, giving it a once-over before setting it back. "Don't worry, they're in good hands now. My hands, to be exact, and I have a wonderful idea of what to do with them."

Beside one of the massive cannons was Waechter – rather, the lifeless shell that once housed Waechter. A shell had dropped on the ground beside him. The impressions of a chain were visible along his neck, which had been clearly broken. It didn't take Alek long to guess who did him in.

Neither he nor Deryn carried any sort of reliable firearms on them. All she had was her rigging knife and a flare gun for signaling the airbeast. Alek was even worse off: his only weapon was that wrench he had pilfered from the repair bay. Meanwhile, there were at least six armed rebels staring them down, and God only knew how many more men and women Gottschalk had storming the encampment.

But she had to be stopped. She had gone from attempting to fabricate a mass exodus of Clankers from Austria to murdering anyone who waved a banner other than her's. He worried that she had gone off the deep end entirely, the last remnants of her rational mind shattered when her subordinates betrayed her. But there had to be some good left in her. His mother always insisted that everyone had a redeemable side, no matter how much they hid it with their words and deeds.

"Lady Gottschalk," he began in the most respectful tone he could muster for someone like her, "please hear me out. We are making a mistake by fighting each other."

Deryn said nothing to help him. Her fingers twitched at the curve of the flare gun's handle.

He took a step towards the rebel leader. In that instant, her men were surrounding him, rifles and handheld fabrications raised to strike him down. Gottschalk, amused by his boldness, ordered them to lower their weapons. "Continue," she ordered him.

"You want to rid Austria, our home, of tyranny, isn't that right? You saw its cruelties firsthand, and wanted to make sure no child would ever have to suffer the same fate as you?"

"Not just tyranny, Aleksandar, _Clanker_ tyranny. In Darwinist countries, the societies evolve and adapt to fit the needs of the people. Clanker countries are stagnant and resentful of change. Whenever someone steps out of line, the powers in charge stamp them out so they don't have to change their outdated ways. I learned that the hard way."

"But how would you know how Darwinist societies react to change? You've never lived in one!"

Though he was intently focused on Gottschalk, Alek noticed a few of the Darwinist rebels glance at her worriedly.

"Are we boiling this down to semantics, my dear, spoiled prince? Yes, I have never lived in a Darwinist country for more than a few weeks at a time. I have visited plenty in my time, more than you have. I understand the ins and outs of Darwinism."

"Then you would know they're just as prone to inequalities as Austria!" he fervently said. "Russia has kept its people in chains thanks to its Darwinist military might. India is under the ownership of Britain for years for the same reason. Even America has strong-armed Mexico into unfair treaties because of its superior fabrications! It doesn't matter whether a nation becomes a Darwinist or a Clanker power, because it will be just as prone to tyranny either way!"

Gottschalk shook her head. All of the ill-natured joy had left her, instead replaced by an inescapable frustration. "It will be different for us. I will be a fair and just leader. Under my guidance, the Darwinists of Austria will respect one another and not allow Clanker influence to sway us into corruption."

"Under _your_ guidance?" Deryn interjected. "When we first met, you said you were going to give up your position and have elections when all this was done!"

"My goals changed, Sharp," Gottschalk hissed, already fuming at the cross-examination she was receiving. "You and your beloved prince taught me that I cannot trust everyone who lives under the banner of Darwinism. Once the Clankers have been driven from Austria, I will have to deal with whatever enemies, national or foreign, threaten my people."

"So you admit that Darwinism has produced enemies for you?" Alek questioned her. "That it isn't a perfect philosophy after all?"

"Stop twisting my words, you selfish, greedy, violent, Clanker son of-"

"-Admit it! Everyone here knows that both Darwinist and Clanker nations can become tyrannical under similar circumstances! I've grown fond of Britain, the Zoological Society, and the Darwinist Powers, make no mistake, but even I will recognize their flaws! No philosophy is perfect!"

"He's right, Gottschalk," said Deryn. "You won't see peace if you force out each and every Clanker from Austria. By the time you do that, all this barking fighting will have torn your home apart. Do you really want to be the queen of a heap of ashes?"

"If it means ending the reign of Clanker nations once and for all? Yes, I would be more than willing to reduce Austria to ashes! In fact, I think you two will make up the first pile, along with the cowards trying to avoid their punishments in Hofburg Castle!" She signaled her men to aim at Deryn and Alek. "Execute them both!" she shouted.

Her men hesitated – who wouldn't after hearing their leader announce her intentions to destroy their homeland if it meant accomplishing some deranged scheme? – but one eventually cocked his rifle and fired off the first shot.

Before the rebel could properly aim, the chimaera from the repair bay leapt out from the shipping containers, sinking its teeth into his leg. He cried out, missing them by a wide berth.

Deryn aimed the flare gun high and launched off a bright red projectile. She charged the stunned rebels, fighting tooth and nail against them, striking at them and bashing them with such ferocity that four armed men couldn't keep her down. Alek ran after her, joining in the fight with his wrench in hand.

"_Stand_…_down_!" Gottschalk called to the chimaera. The fabrication stopped what it was doing entirely, its ears pricking up at her voice. "_You…will…_"

Alek hurled the wrench at her, striking her hard in the stomach before she could finish taking control of the beastie. She let out a pained grunt and fell to the ground. Alek hoped his father wasn't watching; he had been taught from an early age not to hit women. Then again, the circumstances here were very unusual.

Deryn and Alek broke free from the ring of bruised and battered Darwinist rebels. "Keep moving!" she cried. "The _Nephilim_ should have seen that flare by now! It'll be here soon!"

A trio of Disruptor-armed rebels ran into the nest, plainly attracted by the noise of the ongoing fight. The chimaera hurled itself at them, dodging their electric bolts as it lunged, bit, and swiped at them.

Something even more threatening than a few Darwinist rebels caught Alek and Deryn's attention. A vitriolicant, drawn to them by Gottschalk's attempt to control their chimaera, was charging at them, knocking aside all manner of metal and stone to grind them into a pulp.

Alek looked all over for places sturdy enough to withstand its charge. Deryn, meanwhile, had cracked open the cooling tank and was furiously submerging the gas canisters in the water one-by-one.

"What are you doing? We need to take cover!"

"Aye, but don't forget why we came here - these shells still need to be broken down! Remember what they said at the Society about these things? Water's the safest way to make them not work!"

She had a point, but it was almost a suicidal one. They would never disarm all of the canisters by the time the vitriolicant stormed into them. If only there was a way to get them all in the water simultaneously.

Of course, there was an enraged beastie charging at them at impressive speeds...

"Move the cart between us and that fabrication!" he shouted to Deryn. "And get ready to jump aside!"

Deryn's eyes traveled from the cooling tank to the gas canisters. "I think I know where you're getting at! Can it really work?"

The vitriolicant was getting closer and closer, its insect-like features growing more discernible each time he looked back at it. "There's no time to find out! We can do it this way or take all day dunking them!"

Deryn forced the cover so it reached up high, providing a blockade for the soon-to-be-propelled shells. She picked up a fallen rifle and fired its entire clip at the vitriolicant. The bullets dug into its shield-like front legs. It lowered its head so it was mostly protected by them.

In the sky, Alek saw a small airbeast approaching the encampment. The _Nephilim_ was almost there, but the vitriolicant was no more than twenty meters from them, then ten, then five…

Alek and Deryn jumped aside. The fabrication crashed into the cart of gas munitions, sending them hurtling into the ice-cold waters of the cooling tank.

The two laughed, utterly amazed at their good fortune.

The vitriolicant shook itself and reared its head back for another charge. Alek and Deryn scurried on top of one of the shipping containers, waving the airbeast towards them. As it started moving, the fabrication was struck repeatedly by Disruptor bolts coming from the airbeast's backside. None of them significantly hurt the beastie, but they disoriented it enough to keep it from charging its intended targets.

Above them, Ashton and Moira waved, the former holding a Disruptor while the latter held an armful of wither-bugs. "Get on board!" Ashton shouted. "This place is too hot to stick around in!"

Alek was the first to jump toward the _Nephilim_. He gripped the edges of the cargo hold as Moira helped him up. Deryn followed suit, getting a helping hand from Ashton as she was lifted into her airbeast.

"We've got them!" Moira yelled into the depths of the airbeast. "Take us over the artillery guns so we can finish the job!"

The airbeast circled over the encampment. It blended in perfectly with the other airbeasts that had just docked into the former Clanker base. For once, Alek found himself grateful for the existence of Gottschalk's fabrications.

When the artillery guns were in sight, Moira hurled her wither-bugs at them. Ashton, Disruptor at the ready, precisely struck the bugs at optimal heights, coating each cannon in showers of acid that melted their barrels and feeding mechanisms into uselessness. The _Nephilim_ flew away once the last cannon was rendered inoperable.

Alek and Deryn collapsed against the inner membrane of the airbeast, huddled together closely. Against all odds, they had eliminated the threat of the gas bombardment in Vienna. Waechter's mad schemes for glory had come to a close.

Before she had gone off the deep end, Gottschalk had mentioned Hofburg Palace. Something about cowards and punishments. Was something going on further up north?

"Moira, know anything about Hofburg Palace?" Alek asked.

"Aside from it being a ritzy attraction for the rich and wasteful? Not much." Moira got off the edge of the cargo hold and sat opposite to them. "But Gottschalk had talked a great deal about wanting to lay siege to it. In the last meeting of hers I attended, she said that Clanker refugees had been accepted in there since the Battle of Lienz. She wanted the Black Hand and her elite guards to attack the place and destroy it entirely."

Deryn blinked hard. "Blisters, Alek, you don't think…"

"…It's more likely than I'd care to admit." He got back on his feet. "I'm going to find Volger. He and Jung need to fly the _Nephilim_ to Hofburg Palace."

"Whatever you're planning, count me in," Ashton said. "I'm not resting until this war's over."

"Oi, same with me. You, Ashton, and Deryn are my only real friends I have left."

Deryn winced again at the Irish girl's correct use of her name.

Ashton leaned back at all three of them. "Second time you've pronounced Dylan oddly, Moira. Is that how they say it in Ireland?

Moira glanced challengingly at Deryn, but said nothing in reply to her Clanker counterpart.

Alek traveled down the innards of the airbeast, leaving the three girls behind in the cargo hold. The weight of his eventual actions was becoming harder to ignore. If he had told Deryn the whole truth of what he intended to do once they arrived at Hofburg Palace, she would call him mad. It had to be done. Like Deryn had said to Gottschalk, continuing to fight and kill would reduce Austria to ruins.

He wondered what his father would think of him now. Would he call his son a hero for trying to solve this war without violence? Or would he call him a madman for throwing himself headlong between warring factions armed with only his desperation for peace?

Perhaps Volger would have an answer to that question.

Alek opened the door to the airbeast's wheel room, where Volger and Jung sat at the controls.

Volger rotated around to face him. "Yes, Your Serene Highness?"

"We need to fly to Hofburg Palace. There will be a massacre there unless we arrive quickly enough to stop it."

He nodded, taking the controls in hand and steering the _Nephilim_ toward the northern part of the city. "Always the idealist, just like your father. At least he would be proud of you."

* * *

><p>Back in the cargo hold, Moira spoke up.<p>

"Look, I understand not telling that Jung plonker, but there's no reason to hold it back from Ashton. Why should you lie to her; she would understand it!"

Deryn sighed. Blisters, how poor was Moira at keeping secrets? If she could keep Alek's secret for so long, Moira shouldn't have much trouble not running her mouth off in front of everyone!

Then again, Ashton was a loyal member of her crew. Unlike Jung, who still had blood on his hands after Boesch's passing, she gave them crucial help during the air assault. For what it was worth, Moira was right: as another girl drawn into the Darwinist-Clanker struggle, they had much in common. Clart, they all came from the same barking kingdom!

In spite of everything she had been through, from the firefight on the ground to the narrow escape airborne, Deryn still found room to laugh.

"Better get comfortable, Ashton. This story is going to take a long barking while."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: It may be coming late, but Merry Christmas to the _Leviathan_ FanFiction Archive! It's been a blast writing here and reading other fanfics. Here's to another great year in the fandom!**

**Special thanks to my beta-reader, eisceire, for critiquing this chapter and helping balance out the action between Alek and Deryn!**


	34. The Calm

Chapter 34

"The Calm"

**February 3****rd****, 1917**

**Aboard the **_**Nephilim**_

In spite of everything that had happened in that day alone – the chaos and fighting, the close scrapes with death, the loss of one of her crew – Deryn found herself strangely at ease. There would be no more exaggerating or hiding behind fake names and secret identities; she could finally be open and honest with her crew.

She was still surprised at how much she had given away: not only had she revealed her identity to someone of her own free will, but now she was telling an Irish rebel lass and a Clanker mercenary girl her story. Starting from the close encounter with the _Leviathan_ to the kiss in the storm, she kept her enraptured audience hanging on every word. They were hanging on her every word, and she didn't have to lie about a thing...other than the times she cried like a ninny or got involved in top-secret clart.

The sun had begun to set over the horizon. Pockets of clouds across the sky seemed to catch fire, turning bright shades of orange and red. The entire sky had become an array of beautiful colors.

It's true what they say, Deryn thought. Red sky at night, sailor's delight.

"Go on, go on!" Moira eagerly exclaimed. "What happened when you reunited with Alek after the Goliath was shut down?"

"He met me on the spine of the _Leviathan_. He said he loved me, even threw away his scroll to prove it."

Moira's hands were shaking. "Then you two snogged, right? Tell me you snogged him!"

Ashton had one hand cupped under her chin. "Strange. I pegged Alek as the dramatic type, but I never imagined he would do something like _that_. That scroll's still in the waterproof case, right? Does that mean it's somewhere along the American East Coast? If someone finds it, do they get the throne?"

"Doesn't matter, seeing as how the throne's gone."

Moira clapped her hands against her thighs. "God, I just…I can't believe how much you've been involved in! You're like some swashbuckler out of a pulp novel! It certainly kicks the clart out of everything we faced in the Lockout in Dublin…"

"Oh right, that. I was in Austria when that went down. What all happened there, Moira?"

"I'll tell you what happened: a bloodbath! We tried lashing out at the British by striking around the city, picking fights with the strikebreakers and constables, all kinds of nasty things. But we were desperate, with so many of us barely making ends meet. We didn't have airbeasts or dashing princes in that fight – just lots of practical beasties and barricades. Of course, the British had plenty of tigeresques, airbeasts, and other dirty tools to work with." Any sort of happiness had left Moira's voice when she continued. "After several months went by, they threw everything they had at us to bring it all to an end. Ever had flechettes dropped on you, Deryn?"

"Bombs, bullets, and everything in between, but not flechettes."

"It was a proper nightmare. They tore through all sorts of cover, ripping through our soldiers and beasties like they were made of paper. When the British finally sent their ground troops in, we were too weak to hold them off for long. We could barely hold the city together. My ma and da were long gone by then. Some of the higher-ups worked together to evacuate us orphan chisellers out of Ireland to escape sentencing. We got scattered across Europe with no way back in. I guess I should be glad I'm alive out here and not dead back there." Moira's head began to sink between her knees. "If I hadn't gotten thrown on that Huxley, I might not have made it past fifteen…"

Moira's eyes had become glassy. She withdrew herself further into a huddled position. Deryn began to speak up, but hesitated. What could she say to console someone who could never return to her home? With Alek, his home had become the _Leviathan, _then wherever she was. After nearly getting killed fleeing Austria, he never sounded eager to return there. Moira had lost Ireland and her role in the Austrian Darwinist Alliance.

If Dr. Barlow was right, the Zoological Society had a hand in sabotaging the Lockout from within. Even if that wasn't all true, this was not the time to bring up her boss's possible role in stomping out the Irish rebellion.

Ashton slid across the cargo hold and sat herself beside Moira. "Easy there. What's done is done. You have us now, remember? We've all lost people we care about!"

Following Ashton's lead, Deryn said, "Aye, she's right. Biggest reason I joined the Air Services was to be like my da. He loved flying, went ballooning whenever he could…"

That lump in Deryn's throat returned. As soon as she got to talking about her da's last moments, she risked choking up.

But tonight, it didn't feel as sharp as it normally did. It was almost like an old friend coming back to check up on her.

Deryn crossed her legs beside Moira. She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't help but smile. An Irish Darwinist had become sandwiched between a British Clanker and a Scottish Darwinist. All they needed was a Welsh Clanker to even things out.

"…He saved my life, you know," said Deryn. "His balloon caught fire. He got me out before he could…well, you know. Earned a barking medal for bravery for that one."

Gradually, Moira raised her head. "So that's why you dressed up like a boy? To honor his memory?" The edges of her lips began to curve up. "You're a real romantic, aren't you? No wonder all the lads and lasses swoon for you."

Ashton laughed in a choked, bitter way. "I wish my reasons for fighting were as noble as your lot's are. I feel like the odd one out."

Alek had brought up his encounters with Ashton on the way to Graz. He had brought up her resentment of Darwinism. Typical for Alek, he blamed himself for not being able to convince her the Darwinists weren't all bad. With everything Ashton had done in the past few days, Deryn couldn't help but wonder if she had changed since then.

"That's right," Moira commented, "you never told us what led you to Austria."

"Nothing good, I can tell you that."

Ashton suddenly got up, nervously shaking out her legs. One of her hands gently stroked the inner membrane of the airbeast.

"I'm grateful that this airbeast saved our skins, but...it's a creature, nothing more. I know how you raise them, where any hints of self-awareness get choked out early. I mean, you're both from the provinces. You've no idea what London was like before the war. It had everything: beasties, sparks, steam, hydraulics, and even walkers!"

She glared back at Deryn and Moira, like they had come out of her most painful memories.

"There were hydraulic tubes strung along all the main streets, clear tubes pumping power through these chameleon-like electric eels...it was like walking in a rainbow. Steam powered cages ran along the river with myna birds shouting the latest news. If you wanted to know what was happening, you just had to go and lean on one of the bridges for half an hour. London wasn't any regular Darwinist hub, it was the best of both worlds. The whole kingdom was running to the future along every road it could find."

Like before, Ashton paced to the other side of the cargo hold.

"Me and my parents were always more of tinkerers, we liked the mechanicals. That didn't matter back then, some folks were steamies or breathers, splashies or sparkies; it was only about what you fancied. My father and I spent hours in his workroom messing with gadgets. Our house was full of them! We even had our own walker. My mum called it Bucephalus. They sent me to a technical school - nobody ever cared if you were a Clanker or a Darwinist, not as long as you had a head full of ideas or clever hands. We made the steam powered frog, the kingfisher typewriter...all sorts of brilliant and mad ideas."

She jerked herself off the door violently, drilling holes into Deryn and Moira's eyes as she stared down at them from above.

"But when Germany and Britain started butting heads, the future came crashing down. All of us Clankers were seen as traitors, collaborators. Kids from other schools started picking fights with me. My dad would always get shouted at on the way back from work. One morning, we woke up to find our walker had been torched. That was when we decided to flee to Austria."

Like she was being prodded with a hot iron, Ashton kept moving. She pressed back against the cargo hold's door, her fists tightening and loosening over and over again.

"My parents found work with the police in Vienna. I remember being so angry at having to leave my home…I didn't blame my parents, though. I hated the Darwinists for driving us away, Even back then, Austria was pushing the Clanker agenda for all it was worth. They were hellbent on driving the Darwinists into a corner, and I was happy with that.

"When Gottschalk and the Darwinists started riots across the country, my parents were some of the first lost in the fighting. That was when I really knew the Darwinists were my enemies; they cost me my home, my country, my parents! I had to do something. I wanted nothing more than to kill as many Darwinists as I could. A day later, I saw a listing asking for mercenaries with experience piloting walkers."

Ashton turned and stalked away to the porthole, looking out at the blood-red sky.

"And the rest...you can guess how I spent my last year."

The three of them said nothing for some time. Deryn was again at a loss for words. She found herself listening to the faint sway of the _Nephilim _as it sailed through the burning sky. They sympathized with each other in silence, all having lost people dear to them. Fighting was one of the few escapes they had from grief.

Moira got onto her feet. Gradually approaching Ashton, she slowly looped her arms around Ashton's waist from behind. Ashton's hands curled into fists at the sudden contact. They uncurled bit by bit as she turned around to face her.

"I'm sorry you had to suffer through all that business," Moira said, continuing to hold Ashton in an embrace. "You deserve better. We all do, really."

Ashton paused, taking in all that Moira had said. She leaned down to Moira's height, tightly hugging her Darwinist friend.

"Seems like you Darwinists have had it rough as well." The two broke off their embrace. Moira's fingers lingered on Ashton's side. "But we all made it this far, didn't we? I don't believe in that destiny nonsense, but it feels like we all were meant to meet."

Deryn spoke up. "Right! Like you said, none of that matters now. We're all alive, and we're going to keep on living! Look at what all we've been through! Most lads and lasses would've given up, but we didn't!"

"So we're the toughest girls around, huh?" Ashton dryly commented. "That sounds about right."

"Aye," Moira agreed. "I'd hate to sound full of myself, but after everything we've been through, we're practically living proof that lasses can make it in the military."

"I'd say so. Think that your higher-ups will ever come to their senses, Sharp?"

"Who knows? Maybe when I get older I can argue for that sort of thing. Wouldn't be shocked if Alek joins me, either."

"Honestly, I'd never have dreamt I'd be sitting inside an airbeast and chatting to two Darwinist girls without holding a pistol to their heads. Who knows what we can do together?"

A faint "thump" shook the Nephilim. Deryn realized that she couldn't hear the air racing by them anymore. Outside, shouts and panicked cries were thrown left and right. She peered out one of the portholes.

An imposing stone structure stood before them. Everything around it was carved up by trenches, tunnels, and craters. Clanker soldiers crouched in muddy holes close to the palace's entrance, as walkers stood at the ready to blast away at the encamped Darwinists and beasties less than a dozen meters away.

As the cargo bay's doors began to raise, Alek appeared at the doorway. Deryn stood up as he rushed to her.

Everything about him – his pained expression, his disheveled clothes, the sweat along his face – worried her.

"Is something wrong, Alek?"

He stopped, looking briefly at Ashton and Moira, who had stood up with Deryn. He shook his head and forced his lips against hers, his eyes shut tightly.

Deryn's heart was beating tighter and tighter as she joined him, ignoring the astonished reaction from Ashton, the look of adoration from Moira, and her own barking feeling of dread.

For a few wonderful seconds, there wasn't a battle brewing beside them or a war to stop. No, it was just her and Alek, caught up in a sweeping kiss like the star-crossed ninnies they were.

Abruptly, Alek broke off their kiss. "_Liebe_, no matter what happens next, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

"Aye, but…what will happen next?"

Alek ran out of the cargo hold, unarmed and unprepared for what was ahead of him, heading for the scarce no man's land between the Clankers and Darwinists.

She had her answer.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yay, fluff! This was originally supposed to be the intro to the confrontation between Alek and the opposing sides of the Hofburg Palace siege, but it grew long enough to warrant its own chapter. No harm in including an interlude between one tense chapter and the next, I suppose.**

**The Dublin Lockout Moira brought up was a real-life conflict between British constables and the Irish Transport & General Workers' Union. Between August 1913 and January 1914, strikes and walkouts halted much of the labor in the city, leading to clashes between British police and soldiers, Irish workers, and the strikebreakers called to fill in for the striking workers. Ultimately, the Irish lost the dispute, leading to some of their union leaders leaving Ireland entirely. Needless to say, my interpretation of how it would've gone in the _Leviathan_ universe is a little more "dramatic" than how it really went.**

**Again, a massive "thank-you" to eisceire, who beta-read this chapter and brought the events of the Lockout to my attention! I was originally going to have Moira flee in the aftermath of the 1916 Easter Rising, but given the way the Great War went in the _Lev_ universe, it most likely would not have happened.**


	35. Confrontation

Chapter 35

"Confrontation"

**February 3****rd****, 1917**

**Vienna, Austria**

Against every ounce of common sense he had, against the cries of Deryn and his crewmates, Alek ran right into the middle of the short, heavily-entrenched no man's land between the Clankers and Darwinists at Hofburg Palace.

"Stop!" he yelled. "Please, for the love of God, don't let this escalate any further!"

His cries went unnoticed. Some threw curious glances his way and continued about their businesses. Amid the deafening crashes and grunts of war, one boy's pleas for mercy couldn't penetrate the din.

Then a burning red orb careened over the horizon. The bickering stopped, if only so both sides could find the source of whatever disrupted them. Atop the Nephilim stood Volger, Deryn's flare gun in his hands.

With all eyes on him, Volger threw his weapon aside.

"Listen to the boy!" he shouted to the scores of Darwinists and Clankers. "As hot-headed as he may be, he's the only one with enough sense to realize you are one false step away from destroying yourselves."

Alek suddenly became aware of the sheer multitude of people staring him down. He hadn't seen so many eyes fixed on him since his first arrival in Lienz. Was this what it was like to rule over everything? Having everyone fixate on you and expect you to solve their problems for them?

"Focus, Alek," he told himself. "Fate gave you this moment to save Austria. Do not let it slip."

With a steadying breath, he glanced all around at the people gathered at Hofburg Palace – old, young, men, women, natives, foreigners, Darwinists, and Clankers. Yet they all had the same tired look in their eyes.

"You don't want this war any more than I do!" declared Alek. "But you all continue to fight! At the southern end of Vienna, Darwinists and Clankers alike are tearing apart the city thinking they will be the ones to save their country!"

Something caught in Alek's throat. He ignored the choked, pained feeling there and continued speaking.

"It has to stop somewhere! Much of Southern Austria is in ruins because of the civil war! If you continue fighting, there will be nothing left to rule over! Your leaders have both dealt unspeakable horrors to our home! Gottschalk has had dozens executed for speaking out against her, and not even a day ago Colonel Waechter was willing to use poison gas to stop the Darwinists!"

There was a murmur of confusion and dissent among those present. He heard grumblings questioning his claims, as well as stunned confirmations and periodic curses.

"Both of your basic causes are just! The Darwinists want to be treated as equals, and the Clankers do not want their nation to fall apart! Your leaders have corrupted you, just as they will corrupt Austria as a whole! You know in your hearts that you do not want to fight, so why do you continue to do it?"

Drawing from the painful memories of his escape from Austria, he raised his voice higher.

"My family died because the Germans wanted war to break out! Hundreds of thousands of lives were lost because of their pride! But we never learned anything from it, did we? We're still here in the mud, clutching our weapons and bracing ourselves to end the lives of our fellow men! No one has benefitted from this destruction! Please, come to your senses and lay down your arms! Work out peace with your enemies! They are as human as you are!"

His vision blurred. Alek wiped his eyes, finding that his fingers has become wet in doing so.

"Please," he begged them, "don't let this escalate any further. Don't let anyone else die because of this sectarian nonsense. I could never forgive myself if I allowed my homeland to fall apart like this…"

Alek wasn't sure what he expected to come of his pleas. More grumbling and squabbling among the Darwinists and Clankers? Logistical questions on how they would disarm and disband their respective armies so far into the conflict? Debates among what should be done to the leaders that drove them to this state?

Instead, all that followed was an uncomfortable silence. No one spoke out of turn. It was as if he had said what was on their minds all along, without the fear of being punished for speaking it. Could they be sympathetic to his desire for peace?

Amid the silence, he heard someone slowly clap.

Wading into no man's land was none other than Gottschalk herself, wearing a rather malevolent grin as she approached him. Following close behind was a veritable army of human and beastie alike. A pair of chimaeras strode on each side of her. A half-dozen of those bulky, armored elite guards walked close to her, training their jerry-rigged weapons on Clanker and Darwinist alike. Further back was an airbeast guarded by a rag-tag and exhausted band of Black Hand soldiers.

A few feet away from him, Gottschalk stopped.

"Still peddling the poison of peace, aren't you, my dear prince? Do you really think you can solve Austria's problems by having the Darwinists and Clankers throw down their weapons?"

Alek nodded, firm in his conviction. "Yes, I believe-"

"-What you believe is irrelevant. This war began over decades of anger and hatred boiling over into violence. Do you really think a couple years of fighting cooled down the tensions that started this mess? Relations between Clankers and Darwinists have only gotten worse, and for good reason! The Clankers haven't changed! They're still the abhorrent monsters that killed our families! When will you realize that?"

From Hofburg Palace came cries of indignation. Gottschalk's elite guards turned their attention towards the structure, ready to bombard it with explosive shots at the first sign of aggression.

Alek knew he had to tread carefully if he wanted to avoid igniting a battle. But how could he with a firebrand like Gottschalk in his way? His plan was centered around convincing the Darwinists and Clankers to realize their collective misfortune at the hands of people like her. If the argument in Waechter's compound was any indication, she had no intention of surrendering or making peace with the Clankers. She wanted a Darwinist Austria, no matter the consequences.

But no nation he knew of was purely Darwinist, was it? France and America used a small array of walkers and traditional firearms to supplement their fabricated weapons of war. Even Britain, the birthplace of Darwinism, utilized Clanker creations like flare pistols and harnessed the power of elektricals at home. A Darwinist _Herrenvolk _was a lunatic's dream. It would become Europe's...no, the _world's _nightmare. All that pride and purism would build up until it was unleashed on whatever unsuspecting nations were nearby.

"Lady Gottschalk, what you want is unobtainable!" Alek fired back. "The Darwinist nations you look up to are not absolutely free of Clanker influence. Even the government buildings in London contain elevators and elektrical power! Do you know what would happen if you drove out the Clankers? You would be all alone! No country would respect you for the crimes you committed to get there!"

Gottschalk hesitated before saying anything back. Her brow furrowed as she considered how to answer him, no doubt discarding his concerns as irrelevant and meaningless.

"Then Austria will serve as a model for other nations to follow, will it not? Britain and France have faltered in their dedication to Darwinism! They make a game of mocking the so-called 'Monkey Luddites,' but do they ever do anything about their cancerous presence? They are Clankers in all but name, obsessed with destroying everything we hold dear! When my Austria prospers without Clanker influence, perhaps Britain will recognize my accomplishments and follow suit!"

As much as Alek hated to admit it, a few members of the Zoological Society held similar ideas to her. They despised Clankers like him, even after he had proved his loyalty time and time again.

"What I want is best for Austria," Gottschalk continued. "I never wanted war. I tried to make peace with the Clankers! But they saw fit to humiliate me and attack me. I only fought back when it became clear how far they had fallen."

"That's not true!" cried a hardened female voice in the distance.

To Alek's horror, Ashton came running from the _Nephilim_. She placed herself between the two debating parties, planting her feet firmly where thousands were poised to die. She seemed ready to strike Gottschalk, but held back.

"My parents and I were driven from Britain by people who felt the same way as you," Ashton declared. "They didn't get stronger by forcing Clankers like us away. Austria and Germany did! They got hundreds of disgruntled inventors and mechanics who were eager to get revenge on Britain for how they were treated!"

Ashton's hands tightened into fists. "You're just going to breed more hate! I would know! I spent the past couple years wanting nothing more than to kill every Darwinist in Austria! I lost my parents to them, so revenge was all I thought I had left!" She shook her head. "But I was fooling myself. Revenge wouldn't bring them back. I wouldn't be happy even if you were strung up in the middle of Vienna. Want to know how I found peace?"

Moira emerged from within the Nephilim, rolling towards them an unwieldy cart with a white cover over it. Alek squinted, trying to make out what it was supposed to be.

"O'Donovan?" Gottschalk softly asked herself. "Even she turned against me?"

The expression on Gottschalk's face was unlike any other Alek had seen on her. She looked hurt. It was as if Moira's defection was hitting closer to home than she cared to admit, but she would never allow anyone to know it.

Moira set the covered trolley aside. Alek couldn't remember seeing anything like that when he was aboard the airbeast. It looked as if it had been cobbled together from the bunks in a rush.

With Gottschalk's eyes focused on her, Moira seemed to wither a bit, leaning on Ashton for support.

"O'Donovan, you were one of my finest agents," Gottschalk said. "Why would you give away the friends you made for these _traitors_?"

Moira averted her eyes. "I'm sorry, Lady Gottschalk. I really used to admire you, but that was before…"

"_Before_? Before _what_?"

"Before you changed! Before you turned from that strong, determined woman I looked up to into this uncaring monster that enjoys making folks suffer!"

"I have only been dealing retribution to those that deserved it! I would never hurt you or anyone like you!"

"Oh yeah?" Ashton challenged her. "What about the Clankers who were on your side? What about the ones who wanted to be left alone, or didn't even want a part in this war? What about the Darwinists who had gotten sick of your bloodthirstiness?"

Alek hadn't a clue what Moira or Ashton were doing, but he needed to retake control of the conversation. Deryn knew more about the Irish girl than he did, but he knew Ashton. She had a vengeful streak to her that could endanger his pleas for peace.

"Ashton, we're skating on thin ice here. Don't bring your old grudges into this."

Ashton's hands were on the table's sheet. "Trust me, Alek. We have this planned out."

"Planned out?"

"Volger showed us your letter to Sharp. Well, everyone except Jung. Really quite romantic, it was. Brought a tear to Moira's eyes. But we have your back. You have someone to go home with, and we're making sure that plan doesn't change."

Alek remembered all-too-well what that letter was. Penned in a moment of weakness in Vienna, he had left it Volger's hands just in case he were to die in Vienna. Enclosed was an affirmation of his love for Deryn, along with the gift he had intended to give her when the madness in Austria had died down.

He understood the logic behind Volger's use of the letter to rally the crew behind him, but he wished he could have been the one to present the ring to Deryn.

Ashton threw the sheet off of the table. Alek felt his breath hitch uncontrollably.

Brought before the whole crowd was Boesch, still clad in his Clanker engineer uniform. Aside from his eyes being closed, nothing about his appearance had changed. The two burnt spots where he had been struck by Disruptor bolts were still present.

Gottschalk, vaguely disgusted, said, "Is this some sort of joke? Do you expect me to apologize for what I've done because you brought me a dead Clanker?"

"His name is Corporal Armin Boesch," Ashton hissed. "And, yes, he was a Clanker. But do you know what else he was? He was a shy medic who was curious about Darwinism and fabrications. He cared about our entire crew, Clanker and Darwinist alike. Most of all, he never wanted to fight! Yet he ended up dead over some war he wanted no part of! It took Darwinists and Clankers together to end his life, not one or the other." She shoved him closer to Gottschalk. "Tell me, does he look like one of the Clankers that tormented you? Because, to me, he looks like any other boy!"

A pang of guilt hit Alek when he realized he had never bothered to ask what Boesch's first name was.

"That…that doesn't matter. One decent Clanker doesn't justify the years of torment we've suffered."

"They're ready to give up!" Alek cried. "They don't want to fight you! They were willing to make peace before you began tearing Vienna apart! Why can't you let go of the past and accept that people change?"

"Because they don't! I endured years of torment and violence because of what I believed in! I tried to make them see my side, but all they ever did was abuse me! They burned me when I started speaking up for Darwinist unions! Because of them, I've lost _everything_! My parents, Adrian, Agatha, Moira...they're all dead or turned against me!"

Just as Alek was about to speak up, Gottschalk turned her anger at him. "And don't you dare say they've changed! They're still the vile monsters I remember! This afternoon should have been a clear sign of that!"

From Gottschalk's airbeast came a Darwinist rebel with one of Waechter's gas canisters in his hands. Gottschalk took it and held it aloft for those present to see.

"This is a mustard gas shell that the Clankers intended to use on you all! I don't just mean my Darwinists, I mean _everyone_ present! Darwinist, Clanker, man, woman, child - it didn't matter! They were going to murder each and every one of you to hold onto Vienna! They were so desperate to look strong that they were willing to kill their own people to defend their territory! They have no morals or dignity, just an unquenchable bloodlust!"

Alek's shaking had returned. Not only had Gottschalk filled in the empty spaces of his narrative on Waechter, but she was effectively punching holes through his argument. The Darwinists had done some vile things during their assault on Vienna, no doubt...but could it really compare to subjecting both sides to slow, agonizing deaths? He couldn't justify Waechter's actions or consider them equivalent to the relatively-tame actions of the Darwinists in the city.

Wheeling around, Gottschalk began burning holes into the heads of the Darwinists present. "So you see why I wanted you all to fight on? They betrayed me, just as they will betray you! If you lay down your arms, they will treat you without mercy, just as they did with me! Our only option is to continue fighting! I don't want Darwinism in Austria to die, just as you all do! I said it once, and I'll say it again – we need to force the Clankers out of this country before they grow powerful enough to torture us once more!"

There was a growing murmur among the Darwinists present, and – to Alek's utter horror – the beginnings of agreement forming. Had she just won them over for good?

He couldn't believe this was happening. He was so used to her snapping, lashing out at people, plunging everything into violence. This smooth, rational side of her, one buried under years of hatred and contempt for half of Europe's population, was playing the crowd masterfully. How could he hope to steer Austria from war when she was exerting such influence over those present?

"Will that really solve your problem, driving out the Clankers?" Alek demanded of her. "You became the woman you are because of the cruelties inflicted upon Darwinists by them! By treating them the same way, you'll just create more hatred! What if you end up tormenting boys and girls the same way the Clankers did when you were young? You'll just create a mirror image of yourself for them to rally behind!"

Gottschalk scoffed at his predictions. "Then I will deal with him or her when the time comes. We are at a pivotal moment in Austria's history, Alek. We cannot afford to waste time theorizing what will become of us."

"Except you should. That is, if you truly are the 'master tactician' you make yourself out to be."

From the direction of the _Nephilim_ came Jung, with Deryn pushing him along. He sat in a wheelchair that looked scrounged-together from yet more spare parts. Alek wondered how much more scavenging the airbeast could take, given how damaged and barren its membrane and innards were becoming.

His _liebchen _looked pale, and stared at him as if he had sprouted wings and begun trumpeting the end of the world. She left Jung a few feet from Gottschalk, who seemed as baffled at his presence as Alek was. She came close to Alek, and he wasted no time whispering to her.

"Deryn, I threw myself in front of these people so you all could stay _out_ of the crossfire. Why are you all joining in?"

"Because, without us, you'd be fighting a losing battle. Clart, Alek, did you think we'd leave you on your own?" Deryn swore under her breath. "But…I mean…_blisters_, Alek." Her voice had gone up a couple octaves without her realizing. "You were going to barking _propose_ to me?"

Suddenly, he became aware of just how weighty his request was. His cheeks burning, he stammered out, "I take it you aren't fond of the idea?"

"No! I…barking spiders, I've _dreamed_ about it for a while now! Was this really the best time to ask it, though?"

"In my defense, I intended to wait until we had left Austria to raise the question."

"Aye, that sneaky-boots count rubbed it in our faces to make us drag Boesch and Jung out here. Barking clever of him, I'd say. We cobbled this daft plan while you were rambling on."

Deryn nudged him in the direction of Jung and Gottschalk.

"And who are you supposed to be?" inquired the Darwinist rebel leader. "Another of Prince Alek's band of traitors?"

"Something like that." Jung flashed a sardonic grin at her. "Call me Marcus Burkhalter. I am, or was, a fabricator for your Austrian-Darwinist Alliance. That is, of course, until you decided it would be fun to kill anyone who spoke out against you."

Alek didn't know what Volger was thinking, sending an inflammatory person like Jung out to talk Gottschalk down. Was he _trying_ to spark up another battle?

Gottschalk scoffed at Jung's remarks. "If you understood the depth of the plot against me, how my own advisors and regional commanders attempted to murder me in my own home, then maybe you would know why I reacted so harshly."

"Well, lady, I'm afraid your words won't help me walk again. Thanks for crippling our chain of command near Vienna, by the way! Your incompetence almost cost us the invasion!"

"I don't care what you went through, I don't appreciate being talked down to for performing a necessary action!"

Jung gasped melodramatically. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I had no idea – Alek, was I _talking down _to Lady Gottschalk here? My sincerest apologies. Next time we chat, I'll remember how thin-skinned and utterly hopeless at commanding an army you are. Maybe I'll give you a few pointers on how _not_ to get your forces mismanaged and slaughtered like in Lienz!"

Something peculiar caught Alek's attention: though Gottschalk was raising her voice and progressively getting angrier at Jung, he had been steadily dropping his down since he had introduced himself. It was unlikely that anyone not within an arm's width of the pair could hear him. Gottschalk's voice, on the other hand, carried far around Hofburg Palace.

"You obnoxious _Dummkopf_! You have no respect for the people who have sacrificed their lives to get you where you are now!"

"Actually, I do." Jung's eyes briefly drifted to Boesch's corpse. "But I learned that lesson the hard way. You never will figure that out yourself, will you? You're so narrow-minded on this delusional goal of yours that you'd rather have Austria burn than allow it to become tolerant of both sides."

Gottschalk was practically screaming by that point. "If it's necessary to cleanse Austria of Clankers, then I will let it happen! Darwinism cannot flourish with even one Clanker in its borders! I would gladly lose hundreds of Darwinists for the sake of destroying one more Clanker within our borders!"

Unknown to her, the Darwinists present at Hofburg Palace began to give each other concerned looks at her outbursts. Every shriek of hers seemed to shoot more holes in her once-airtight argument.

"With that kind of destructive thinking, you'll be digging your own grave soon enough." Glancing up at her scarred face, Jung snorted. "Then again, given the way you look, I'd imagine it'll be a closed casket affair."

Gottschalk's eyes narrowed. Her animalistic rage had flared back to life. She backhanded Jung out of his wheelchair and, screaming at him, grabbed his head and began slamming it against the cold ground.

Alek flinched at her brutality. Jung may have been a sour person, but he didn't deserve this sort of treatment. He instinctively moved in to defend him. Suddenly, all three of the girls were in his way, shaking their heads and telling him to look at what was happening.

With one sweeping look, he realized why they were stopping him from coming to Jung's aid.

Aside from a select few, the expressions of the Clankers and Darwinist watching the spectacle were all shades of abject horror. Gottschalk's indecipherable screaming and violence against a crippled man who couldn't fight back was shaking them to their cores. Whatever their opinions of her were before, they all seemed to draw the line at beating an ally of hers for some unknown offense.

When Gottschalk got off of the bloodied, bruised Jung, she found herself greeted by an immeasurable number of horrified, disturbed, and sickened faces.

"What? What are you all staring at me for?" She wiped her red-stained hands onto her pants. "He deserved it! It doesn't matter whether he was a Clanker or a Darwinist, no one has the right to talk to me that way!"

The discontent among the crowds present grew. Even her fanatical guards were beginning to quarrel among themselves.

The severity in Gottschalk's voice gave way to fear. "That didn't come out right, what I meant was…I mean, I would never strike someone for something as minor as…"

Pleadingly, she asked Alek and the others, "You all heard what he said, right? You know he went too far!"

Moira glared at her former leader. "The only thing he said was that he thought killing your aides was a bad idea. I knew you had a mean streak, but I never imagined you were such a petty, violent _eejit_."

"But you people heard him, you knew…"

Gottschalk's eyes widened, much like a hunted animal's at the sight of a black barrel peeking out from the bushes. "No, no, don't lie to them, don't do this, for the love of God don't do this…"

"Is this how you get your sick kicks?" Ashton shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. "You must really like hurting other people! Is that why you want to wipe out the Clankers in Austria? Not because of some idea of justice, but because it's a way for you to keep the blood spilling?"

Gottschalk stamped her foot against the ground. "You're manipulating these people! Deceiving them! All I want is-"

"-You're not fit to be a leader, Gottschalk," Deryn coldly said to her. "You need to step down before you hurt anyone else."

Whatever rationality Gottschalk had left faded away. "I am destined to be the savior of Austria!" she shrieked at them. "If that means burning it to the ground so new life can form, then so be it!"

Raising her hands above her, she cried, "Men, open fire on these false Austrians and traitors! Anyone who refuses to assist should be shot with them! We will raze this palace to ashes, and scatter its remains into pig slop!"

But not one shot was fired out. Both the Darwinists in the trenches and her men had their fingers on their triggers, but refused to fire their weapons.

Her features contorted in complete rage, she shouted, "What are you waiting for? Open fire! That is a direct order!"

One of the Clankers entrenched at the entrance of Hofburg Palace was shot by a Black Hand soldier. A barrage of bullets and bolts rapidly ate away at the Clanker lines.

Whether it was coming from the Darwinists already here or the ones with Gottschalk was beyond Alek. His heart was sinking faster than ever. What could he do now other than wade into the battle?

Suddenly, a Black Hand soldier was blasted back by a Disruptor bolt. Alek and Gottschalk turned to see a young girl from the Darwinist lines aiming her fabrication where he stood. Her thin arms were shaking.

"Kill her!" the Darwinist leader cried. "I order you to kill her!"

But the entrenched Darwinists fired back from cover, gunning down the remaining Black Hand soldiers. The elite guards turned their weapons on their former comrades, ready to bombard them with explosives, only to be have their armor dented by shots from the Clanker lines. The vitriolicants and chimaeras charged both lines, spreading themselves thin against a threat far larger than they had anticipated.

Gottschalk looked on in shock as her loyal troops were being decimated by not only her sworn enemies, but her former allies as well.

"If I'm going to Hell, Alek, then you're coming with me!"

Gottschalk drew her pistol. Deryn tackled her, throwing the older woman to the ground as they viciously battled for dominance over the other. The two fought like caged dogs, tearing at and striking each other relentlessly. Deryn kept rolling out of Gottschalk's grasp and knocking her against the ground, striking her knees and elbows to force her down.

Within a minute, Deryn had Gottschalk pinned down. "Help me tie her down!" she cried.

A pair of radio wires in hand, Alek looped them around and around Gottschalk's twitching wrists. She hurled curses and screamed at them as Deryn put all of her weight on her back, pressing her arms down as Alek tied her hands and feet.

"Vitriolicant!" Gottschalk cried. "Kill these two for me!"

One of the beasties, already-wounded from its scrapes with the Clankers, began charging towards them. Alek reached for a pistol, a knife, anything to defend himself with, but he found nothing.

Moira leaped in front of them, desperately waving at the charging fabrication. "Beastie, listen to me! There's no need to keep fighting! This lady's only going to get you killed!"

"You really think it's going to listen to you?" Gottschalk sneered. "They will obey my orders first and foremost, no matter what."

Moira ignored her, but the vitriolicant showed no sign of stopping. "Beastie," she pleaded, "understand me! It wasn't her in the pens tending to you, it was me! If you calm down, there'll be no more misery for fabs like you! I promise it! You may have been bred with Gottschalk's life chains, but that doesn't mean you have to follow her into a grave!"

Ashton tugged at Moira's shirt urgently. "Get out of the way! It isn't listening to you!"

Moira pushed her out of harm's way. "Come on, beastie! You don't have to keep fighting or killing! I promise I'll help you lot recover from this!"

The vitriolicant's legs continued plowing through at breakneck speeds. Moira closed her eyes, readying for an impact…

…But the fabrication dug its feet into the ground, stopping itself short of the girl.

Moira slowly opened her eyes, gaping at the vitriolicant in amazement. It lowered its head at her. Gently, she stroked it. "There's a good beastie," she muttered in relief.

Gottschalk began writhing on the ground. "No! You can't possibly control it! Vitriolicant, crush Moira underfoot! I order you to do so!"

The fabrication ignored her entirely, instead allowing Moira to pet it while humming all the while.

"No…no…" All of the fight left Gottschalk's voice. "It can't…they can't…they've all abandoned me. Even the ones I created…"

Gottschalk's troops had been overwhelmed quickly. Unprepared to fight both sides at once, the elite guards' armor was subjected to enough rifle fire to damage it, forcing them to lay down their weapons and surrender or be gunned down. The chimaeras fled the battlefield entirely and utterly disoriented. The other vitriolicant had been slain from a combination of fabricated and mechanical weapon fire.

Gradually, the Darwinists and Clankers from both sides began to leave their trenches and greeted one another in the middle of the battlefield. They were coming to terms with one another without the need for more spilled blood.

In contrast with Alek's fears, the siege of Hofburg Palace was ending not with a long battle, but with an exchange of words from both sides.

Volger joined them in no man's land. He surveyed the aftermath of the group's efforts. "For once, I will refrain from sharing my thoughts on the folly of your callow impetuosity." His lips slightly curved, creating the vague outline of a smile. "Your father is undoubtedly proud of you Aleksandar." He paused, clearing his throat. "As am I."

"I must've misheard you. Did you just _compliment_ me, Volger?"

"Do not become accustomed to it. I only give praise when it is warranted."

Despite this, he patted Alek on the shoulder like a father would do for his son.

Meanwhile, Darwinist and Clanker officers were speaking with Ashton and Moira. The Irish girl was helping her Clanker friend pet the vitriolicant she had tamed. Ashton's fingers relaxed bit by bit under Moira's grip, opening enough to allow her to playfully rub the bulbous head of the insect-like beastie.

On the ground, Jung wheezed, clutching his wounded head. Taking his arm, Alek helped him back into his wheelchair.

"Will you make it to the airbeast?" he asked.

Jung sighed. "My head feels like it is being swarmed by wasps, but I'll live."

Volger took the wheelchair out of his hands. "Stay with them," he said. "They need you more than they need me right now."

Alek nodded. He knelt down in front of Deryn. Underneath her, Gottschalk had ceased her screaming and was quietly sobbing.

Deryn was unmoved by her display. "You've had this coming for a long time. You twisted up the point of Darwinism so you could get revenge. What kind of way to live is that?"

Gottschalk said nothing back. She continued to weep, her body shaking with each breath. Death would have been a more preferable fate than being forced to watch her own men and beasties turn on her. She was all alone now, without a family or an army to support her.

Though the fighting was still raging elsewhere, Alek knew this moment would mark the end of the Austrian Civil War.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Some of you may have been expecting a battle, and I can understand if you were disappointed there wasn't one. I had considered ending the story on a massive battle sequence early on. Now, I feel like it would defeat the whole purpose of the story. Victory for Deryn and Alek wouldn't be just killing Gottschalk or destroying one side or another. For the war to end without destroying Alek's homeland, it had to end peacefully.**

**There will be at least one more chapter before this fanfiction comes to a close. Man, can't believe I'm actually saying that. I thought I would never be able to finish this story plenty of times!**

**Many thanks to my beta-reader, eisceire, for giving feedback on the initial drafts of this chapter!**

**_Herrenvolk_ is a German word meaning "a system of government in which a majority group has power and minorities are disenfranchised." It was used in as far back as the 19th century, though it gained prominence from the Nazi Party promoting the concept.**


	36. A New Morning

Chapter 36

"A New Morning"

**September 24****th****, 1917**

**Innsbruck, Austria**

Austria had changed.

It was no longer solely a land of clanking war machines and turning gears. Though industrialization continued and Clanker tech was still common, Darwinist fabrications were beginning to populate the streets throughout the day. Oxenesques, created strong enough to hold five times their body weight, dragged along carts of crops and other food through markets. Small airbeasts made traveling from one end of the country to the other far cheaper and faster than airships ever could. Even Gottschalk's killing beasties, like the chimaeras, had found uses as guard dogs, as well as for protecting herds for traveling farmers.

At the same time, hybridization was taking place to make the most of both types of tech. Disruptor beetles wired to Clanker engines powered entire city blocks at a time. Chickenhawks wore given metallic, grooved talons for better carrying packages. Glow-worm lanterns were hung over stalls to light up the marketplace until the sun rose. The reformed Austrian military was being trained to use organic and mechanical implements, from traditional firearms to fabricated acid grenades.

In spite of all of this, Alek felt at home returning to Austria with Deryn and Dr. Barlow in tow. The fruits of their labors had ripened. Though the postwar peace was an uneasy one, it was preferential to another drawn-out conflict.

Dr. Barlow studied every sight carefully, nodding in sync with her lorises with each new fabrication or hybrid that passed by.

"Really, the both of you did spectacular work here," she said. "My best-case scenario was a Clanker Austria that would sign a non-aggression pact with Britain. Somehow you two went above and beyond my expectations and created an amalgam state out of Austria. Quite fascinating to see such a dramatic change in such a short span of time."

"Oh? So all this wasn't part of some secret plan of yours?" Alek asked. "I'm used to you breaking out your Plan D's and Plan E's whenever something doesn't go as expected."

"I assure you, Mr. Hohenberg, I am not getting slower. I was preoccupied with two crises – one involving a protégé of mine, and another involving Germany's machinations. While you two altered Austria's course for the better, I was putting out a fire before it could ignite, so to speak."

They were clad in freshly-pressed dress uniforms as they approached Ambras Castle. It was acting as a local center for the Austrian Reformation Coalition, a government-sponsored Clanker-Darwinist group that helped implement hybridization across the country. The three of them were supposed to meet with the regional heads of the organization there.

Though the castle had suffered heavy damage throughout the war, it was undergoing renovations to ensure it would live on. The engineers promised that, with the resources and modern equipment on their side, Ambras would weather any storm that came its way.

The soldiers guarding Ambras were an odd sight to behold. Their clothing was nothing like the common Loyalist and rebel outfits used throughout the civil war, with gray Clanker coloration and telltale signs of fabricated material all over. Much like their new way of life, the very clothes they wore were made from the cooperation of Darwinists and Clankers.

The exhaustion and fatigue plaguing both sides wasn't present among those who greeted Alek at the door. Hope and relief were the new norms of the Austrian people.

"Blisters, these people work fast. Last time I was here, all these fancy decorations were dirty and torn up. Everything looks so colorful and new!"

"Austria does have an image to improve, Mr. Sharp. It needs to convince its neighbors that it is no longer a war-torn wasteland. What better way to do so then to clean up its ruined landmarks?"

"Making sure that bum-rag Gottschalk stays locked up forever; I'd say that's a good way," Deryn commented.

"I assure you, Anastasia will receive the sentence she deserves. My concerns lie less with the possibility of her escaping and more with the possibility of her being executed. If necessary, I will argue for her preservation."

Gottschalk's public trial was becoming a spectacle around Darwinist and Clanker states alike. Reporters from all over the world flocked to Austria to watch the latest developments, whether they were as dramatic as her former allies testifying against her, or as simple as another cross-examination.

Alek and Deryn had briefly sat in on the trial while Dr. Barlow made statements. From what he had seen, the fire in Gottschalk's eyes had extinguished. Her will to fight had faded away, leaving her in a trance-like state where she answered questions straightforwardly and rarely stuck up for herself.

If she hadn't had a hand in the deaths of thousands of Darwinists and Clankers, he might have felt some pity for her sad state.

They stopped at a recently-polished set of double doors. Alek adjusted his tie, pinching the knot tighter to compensate for the gloves he and Deryn were ordered to wear.

Stepping into the sparsely-occupied conference room, they found only a couple of people waiting for them inside – two girls leaning over a map of Innsbruck, muttering to each other. The taller of the two resting her hand over the other's. Near the red-headed girl was a large bird perched on the desk.

"Ashton! Moira! Great to see you again!" Deryn cried.

Alek couldn't help but smile. He and Deryn had been talking back and forth with this pair for months. Their shared past had made the four of them natural liaisons between Austria and England, but he hadn't assumed that they were the lucky ones to take charge of operations in Innsbruck.

Moira whipped around. Smiling widely, she and Deryn caught each other in a friendly embrace. They pulled apart and immediately began trading stories and catching the other up-to-speed on what had been going on.

Ashton nodded towards Alek and Dr. Barlow. "Haven't seen you two since Boesch's funeral. It was a good send-off, but I'm glad to have you back."

"Same goes for you, but I'm honestly surprised! They put you two in charge of this place?"

Ashton nodded. "That showdown with Gottschalk apparently won a lot of admirers for us. Since we both know the area and have plenty of experience with Darwinist and Clanker tools, the Coalition figured we would make good tools for the reconstruction effort."

"I couldn't think of anyone who could do the job better," Deryn said.

"Aye, we've been able to make a difference here. Been making the rounds all over, showing people how to use the new tech being sent around." She reached under the chickenhawk's beak and stroked it affectionately. "Not only that, but I finally found Fitzpatrick! I've been away from the little bugger so long that I almost forgot about him! Turns out he was waiting in Ambras for me all along!"

"Glad you're both doing well for yourselves. Good thing Jung isn't here, or he'd be furious that you're surpassing him in rank!"

"I doubt it. He retired a few months ago. He told me that he was done with the military life, and that taking care of his sisters was more important. He wrote me a letter a couple weeks back. Apparently, he's been teaching at some university up north since then."

Alek couldn't imagine being lectured by someone as irate as Jung. Still, he felt some relief that the lieutenant had gotten his priorities straight and settled down.

"Ms. Marlow and Ms. O'Donovan, we meet at last." Dr. Barlow shook both of their hands. Bovril scurried down her arm and onto Moira's shoulder. "My companions here have spoken highly of your skills. They said they might not have succeeded in toppling Gottschalk without your assistance."

Ashton shrugged. "Honestly, Sharp and Alek got the ball rolling on that," she modestly responded. "We just helped them out when they needed it the most."

Bovril joined his counterpart at Ashton's desk, where the two lorises exchanged snippets of conversation with Fitzpatrick.

Dr. Barlow glanced down at the trio of fabrications. "I certainly hope your chickenhawk has not overheard any profane conversations. It took me weeks to get Bovril to stop saying 'barking spiders' in front of guests."

"I, uh, can't make any promises, ma'am. He's been out-of-sight for a while now. God knows what colorful words he picked up while I was away."

"Very well. With introductions out of the way, I suppose we should get to the heart of the matter – you said in your letter that you wanted to form an alliance between Austria and the British Empire, correct?"

Moira straightened up her coat and sat down beside Ashton. She stretched one of her arms over to Dr. Barlow's loris, petting it gently over the head. "That's right. We're at an odd spot now, being not-quite Clanker and not-quite Darwinist. Germany broke off relations with us a few months ago, and France still doesn't trust us. We figured that – well, I mean, we wouldn't have gotten here without the Zoological Society's help. Might as well repay the favor by working with you lot. Could protect us if Germany decides we should be a Clanker state again."

"We'll be right by your side, don't you worry!" Deryn cried. "Alek and I talked to the top brass in the Society. They're going to be working round-the-clock to get your treaty signed." She pulled off her gloves, laying them down on the table. "Sorry, it's a wee bit hot. They were antsy because you don't have a prime minister yet, but we convinced them you were a sane lot."

Ashton lightly drummed her fingers against the table. "Is there any way you can prove you'll hold up your end of the bargain? I trust you three, but I've had bad experiences with your government…"

She trailed off, likely because the focus had shifted from international affairs to something far more personal. Mouth agape, Moira pointed at the golden object gleaming on Deryn's finger.

"Is that the ring I keep hearing about?" Ashton asked.

Deryn tried keeping her composure, even as the redness spread along her cheeks and face. "Aye. The one Alek gave to me when he popped the question."

Moira giggled enthusiastically, shaking with glee. "God, you two are so adorable! What'd you say?"

"She just stared at me for a whole minute, then wrapped me up the tightest hug I've ever felt," Alek answered. "She yelled, 'Why didn't do this earlier, you _Dummkopf_? Of course I'll marry you!'"

Even Ashton couldn't help but crack a grin. "So, who's taking on whose name? Is it going to be Deryn Hohenberg or Alek Sharp?"

"That's an easy one," Deryn answered, "it's going to be-"

"-Deryn Hohenberg," Alek said.

"-Alek Sharp," Deryn said.

The two exchanged confused looks. Alek remembered the back-and-forth conversation they had the night before.

"We're still figuring that out," Alek said.

"Why not mix the two?" Moira suggested. "How about Aleksandar and Deryn Hohenberg-Sharp?"

"…If we could get back on topic," Dr. Barlow said, "I already thought of several ways we can hold Parliament to its commitment to the new Austria. Two involve standard diplomacy between nations, while a third will have the Zoological Society apply pressure until Parliament submits – and, I assure you, the Admiralty will make sure of that. I will go over them in detail after that conference you scheduled for tonight."

Moira tilted her head at the doctor. "Are you hiding something, ma'am?"

"Take heart, my dear – my line of work always entails hiding crucial details from everyone I know, even my husband. I am only withholding this information because…" she glanced back at the closed door, "…I would rather discuss it somewhere that is not buzzing with activity."

Alek faintly heard Deryn mutter, "Once a sneaky-boots, always a sneaky-boots," under her breath.

"In any case, I would like for you two to take these," she removed two envelopes from her coat and slid them to Moira and Ashton," and read them before you begin answering questions from the foreign delegates. In addition to containing a proposed development timeline of the Zoological Society's partnership with Austria, they contain profiles of your guests. This way you will not be caught off-guard by their more…eccentric behaviors."

Ashton and Moira shrugged at each other and pocketed Dr. Barlow's letters. Ashton cleared her throat. "Well, thanks…I guess. I'll keep all this in mind."

"And, at the risk of coming across as forward, I recall you mentioning that your fabricators were able to crack Gottschalk's formulas. Part of your deal with the Society was that you were going to give them to us for safekeeping."

Moira blinked. "Oh sod, right! We've got all the specific life chain combinations written down. There's a list in the vault upstairs. We'll go get it now."

Ashton held an arm out in front of her companion. "Actually...if you don't mind, we want to hold onto that. That's our only means to hold your organizations to the treaty. Once we see progress, then we will give you the combinations one at a time."

"It would seem that Austria is in better hands than I anticipated." Though Dr. Barlow showed no reaction to Ashton's comments, her voice carried a hint of approval. "Your concerns are understandable. For the time being, we can discuss the increments of this release upstairs. Assuming you all do not mind?"

"Not at all!" Moira responded. "Let's hash it out in private. No need to get anyone else involved for now."

The sun pushed up over the horizon, its top rim easing its way into the morning sky. The clouds seemed to burst into a bountiful orange blaze. Light spread out across Innsbruck and the countryside beyond it.

Ashton, Moira, and Dr. Barlow left the room, their personal beasties hitching rides on their shoulders. Deryn and Alek stayed behind, transfixed by the sight of a new morning in Austria.

Deryn's hand slipped into his. She gently rubbed the missing ring finger on his hand, her thumb making circles in his palm. His fingers ran over the golden ring on her own hand.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she whispered. "Can't believe it's all over. Your home's finally at peace."

"I pray for it every day. There are days I'm just terrified the fighting will resume, and all of our work will be for nothing."

She raised his chin so their eyes met. "You won't have to worry about that. Austria is in good hands. It's in a wee bit of a strange place, but it'll survive. It's a lot harder to hate your neighbors than it is to get along with them, I know that from experience."

Alek chuckled quietly. "You know, before we left for Austria, I told you I was worried the people here would hate me. That they'd see me as a traitor that cost them the war. Now that they like me, I'm worried I won't always be able to help them."

"You can't! It's just not possible. And you know what? They won't think any less of you for not always helping them out. What matters most is helping when you can." She gripped his hand tighter. "And we will do that, together. I'll always be by your side, Alek, no matter how much of a thick-headed ninny you can act."

"And I promise to stay by yours, even when you overzealously throw yourself into the most dangerous situations imaginable."

Deryn leaned in closer to him. Alek's eyes closed, knowing what would come next. Their lips met, drawing out an initial kiss that lingered as the two drew back from each other. Alek's arms were around Deryn's back, just as her arms were around his.

Their eyes opened. Instead of another kiss, Alek leaned his head on Deryn's shoulder, smiling as she rested her cheek on his. Basked in the warmth of the sun and his fiancé's heat, he truly felt at peace.

The two remained that way for what felt like hours. Gradually, they moved apart and collected themselves. A pleasant burning had sparked in Alek's heart, one that no cold morning could ever extinguish.

With her gloves back on, Deryn held the door for Alek. They followed their friends' paths upstairs, awaiting the trials of the new day so they could tackle them together.

Austria would never be a perfect country, but together they would improve it however they could.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: After two and a sixth years of work, Between Two Giants has come to an end. It has been a long, windy road to this point, filled with successes and doubts. I feared I would never finish it at several points in my life, but here I am now. I guess perseverance does pay off. While not all of my original concepts for the story made it in, I am happy with the way it turned out.**

**To everyone who read, followed, favorited, or left reviews for the fanfic: thank you all so much! Your support was a key motivator for writing new chapters for this story. Every bit of feedback, support, and criticism greatly helped me with the story. **

**If you are expecting a sequel to Between Two Giants, then I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you: I do not intend to continue this at any point in the foreseeable future. I want to get back to writing original content once more, and while I grew as a writer thanks to FFNet and the _Leviathan_ community, I do not want to have to do another massive undertaking like this. If anything, I may write a couple one-shot stories or, less likely, continue work on Phoenix Rising. That all depends on the time I have available and the dedication I have for writing more _Leviathan_ fanfictions.**

**Thank you to eisceire to providing valuable feedback as my beta reader! Your contributions helped me out significantly.**

**And, again, thanks to everyone who helped this story proceed from start to finish. I truly appreciate your support.**


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